#Edge and Blue are also very sweet together

[spookitordukeit]

In your fic tbasawas was there anything specific that inspired you to do your specific stories and or ships?

Yes and no—

For the story itself:

Originally, I only had concepts for Aeiisy, a dark fic with a skeleton reader who is constantly having a Bad Time. But, as with most of my ideas, it got split into two different paths. (This is how I end up with most of my fic ideas btw) You might see a few similarities, or even direct reflections between a few of my works, and that’s because they are all directly or indirectly formed from a few of the same ideas, split into separate paths.

Like an au I guess???

Tbasawas was made as a direct counter to Aeiisy, so I wouldn’t pass away from angst and could have something sweet a fluffy to write whenever I got burnt out. (Ignoring the amount of angst that ended up in Tbasawas anyway… and the fluff that got put into Aeiisy…. Don’t look at me!!)

So Tbasawas was inspired by Aeiisy, and Aeiisy was inspired by the need for a skele reader, Monster Frisk, and an apocalypse fic. Not sure how any of that connects, but that’s how it went down.

Tbasawas is a soft apocalypse, if that’s even a thing. Their changes aren’t gory and the world isn’t riddled with war and violence. Just people treated like lost puppies in a cozy adoption center waiting for their ‘forever home’. For the most part.

I take a lot of inspiration directly from animal adoption processes. The whole shebang. Paperwork, wait time, vetting, inspections, background checks, introductions, acclimation— Hell, even the Assigned Nurse can be compared to a Foster. The Mimic Monitors are essentially juiced up microchips.

I’m pretty sure I even used a template for the adoption of a dog from a serious breeder for the letter that Abbee gives Nerma to explain to process. And the email Edge receives  in chapter one.

There’s a lot of themes in Tbasawas going on. Another one is the grieving process, as hinted at in the title of the first chapter. Arc one: Shock.

I’m using this version of the grieving process in particular:

I’m not sure how strictly I’ll follow it, but it’s definitely there in the background, at the very least.

As for inspiration for the relationships:

It’s all kinda based around these themes and how I think the characters would be changed by them.

I’ve changed these characters a lot. Maybe not much physically for most,(that you can see.. wink wonk) but I’ve taken a lot of liberty with their stories and backgrounds. And in the tags for Tbasawas, this universe is listed under post neutral route… not pacifist. Do with that information what you will.

Based on these changes, I think about how they might act. What makes the most sense. What they feel, what kind of person would they feel most comfortable around and what kind would they hate? Do they have insecurities? Are there any fears that they might be judged? Would that stop them from getting close to specific skeletons in the pack? *cough* Sparrow *cough*

Are they jealous or possessive? Holding on to the one good thing that’s happened to them and waiting for the other show to drop?? Even if it hinders the others ability to seek out relationships with others of the pack??? *cough* Red *cough*

I kinda just zone out and smash dolls together in my mind until I get something I like. Not all that cool of a process, but it’s what works for me.

Speaking of! Let’s use Red and Sparrow as an example!!!

*grabs my mental dolls of Red and Sparrow in my hands and smacks them together*

*loud incorrect buzzer sound*

Yep. Knew that would happen. See— Red is chill around the pack, but there’s not a lot of… feelings??? He has this disconnect inside him, whether from his LV, his trauma, or if that’s simply just how he handles his emotions, I’m not sure.

There’s this wall that he has up. He cares for the pack, and for his brother, of course he does! He’d kill for them. That was never in question. He’s just… distant. The only one who can really, really get close is Comet. And that’s mainly because they’re so similar it hurts. They’re in the same, sinking boat. Drifting out in the middle of the ocean as they keep hammering in nails in hopes they won’t drown.

Red is heavily complex, and no one knows just how to solve him and tell him to stop making so many damn holes in his boat before it’s unrepairable.

He’s smoke and mirrors with knives that will cut you if you take a wrong step.

Sparrow, is also withdrawn. But for very different reasons.

He’s not shy, per say— but he’s very conscious how he looks and how he’s perceived. He knows that he’s not as handsome as he once was (lies), he knows that he looks frightening, even to other Monsters.

His self esteem is very low, it’s been getting better thanks to his pack, but it’s still not great. He hides a lot of things about himself, whether out of shame or for the perceived benefit of the other person is a 50/50 at any given moment.

His status as a sigma doesn’t help. There are already enough stigmas about people like him and Star, if Sparrow can’t do what’s expected of him— if he falls into stereotypes—

…he doesn’t like to think about it.

He’s not as able bodied anymore, and his senses are both dulled and heightened to uncomfortable degrees. He needs to be able to trust the people around him. He needs to know that they won’t think lower of him for his weakness. He needs to know that he can depend on them and they won’t just up and leave.

Red has given no indication that he is capable of providing any of those assurances. He has in fact proven quite the opposite.

At this point in time, Red and Sparrow could never be in a relationship. Sparrow would likely end up cut on Red’s knives and shattered glass, and Red would keep hammering more fucking nails into his boat. Unaware that it’s the very thing that keeps brining in more water.

Augh. So long story short: insanity.

The idea for the story popped in my head and then I stared at characters until the imploded in my brain like a super nova and then they kept forming fun new galaxies for me to explore.

I guess it’s my characters that give me inspiration. I just wanna slap my dolls together and see wtf happens, I have no idea where I’m going and I’m equally as surprised as you are at every chapter🗿🗿🗿

I just wanna see Edge be soft and have his little found family, and to feel like he’s allowed to exist in the world despite his sins.

I wanna see Grim be an absolute menace and Get Bitches, because he loves his idiots and just wants to live life at his laziest.

I wanna see Bear put a ring on as many hoes as he likes and get to be happy and smug and purr as he crushes them (lovingly) in his nest.

I wanna see Stretch be soft and fuss about his mates and then punish them for their stupidity with various pranks.

I wanna see Star huff and lovingly bully his mates into being kind to them selves, forcing them to take it easy or face the wrath of Self Care days.

I wanna see Comet get yoinked out of his tiny shell and actually mean it when he smiles his little bastard smiles, and to be able to reach out and form other relationships within the pack.

I wanna see Black get his ass Wooed and his icy rain bloom into spring showers because he feels loved and able to be soft and love in turn.

I wanna see Blue live his life to the fullest and prioritize his own feelings sometimes and remember that it’s okay to want things.

I wanna see Sparrow have each and every one of his boo boos kissed and told that he’s handsome and I want him to accept it and be confident.

And I wanna see Red get a happy ending. I want to see his sharp edges, both the ones facing inside and out, to get smoothed out. I wanna see this bastard get soft and mushy. I’m gonna turn his ass into a grumpy marshmallow just you wait.

And of course, I want to see Nerma be the spark that gets this thing moving.

I’m just a simp…. That is all 😔

[davinawritings]

An Alien Thank You

Pairing: Alien X Female Human Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (Female Receiving), Multiple Tongues, Squirting

You had never thought aliens were real until one appeared in your backyard. When it happened, you had only been in your new home for about a month. As a writer, you had moved to a small, secluded house in the countryside for some peace and quiet while working. Other than the bi-monthly trips to the food market, you were completely alone with your work and thoughts.

The day had started like any other. You had made breakfast, showered, and even got in a few hours of writing. Suddenly, there was a noise outside your office window. Upon looking, you had seen nothing and waved it off, but moments later, you heard it again. No longer able to ignore it, you had gone out back to see what it was. 

Imagine your shock when a massive creature stood in your backyard, poking around your garden. The creature stood about eleven feet tall and was a dark blue, almost black. Its chest was broad, double the length of your shoulders, and seemed packed with hard muscle. Its shoulders had sharp ridges that nearly looked like thick scales. Its thick thighs had similar ridged scales along the outside. Strong arms lead down to large hands that look terrifying with their sharp nails. The creature’s head was all sharp angles, and its eyes were solid black as they stared at you. 

The scream had been stuck in your throat, but the creature must have seen the panic on your face because it quickly held up its hands and claimed that it meant no harm. You still kept your distance as the creature explained that he was not of your planet but was currently stuck on earth while working out how to build a way home.

You had taken pity on the creature and, against what most would consider better judgment, had decided not to freak out and instead befriend the large creature. You learned his name was Oltuth, and he came from a planet you had never heard of. He was traveling and exploring when his ship malfunctioned and crashed a few miles from your secluded home. Your house was the first place he had come upon that wasn’t just open land, so he had been looking for sustenance in your garden.

You knew you probably shouldn’t invite some strange alien creature into your home, but you felt bad for him, and you couldn’t deny that it was kind of nice to have someone to talk to. You also knew that most people would probably just attack Oltuth without hesitation if they found him, so you offered him refuge in your home under the promise of him being peaceful and kind. He quickly promised, and you were very glad he did.

He became a great help around your house and an even better friend. He helped you around the house and with your now flourishing garden. You both built a routine together while you worked on your book, and he worked on a way to rebuild and repair his ship. The days passed much faster with him to talk to, and before you knew it, months had passed. You both grew closer, and you grew almost sad when you thought about him eventually leaving you to return home. 

Today had gone like any other with Oltuth, and you now sat with a nice cold glass of sweet tea, simply enjoying the late-night sky full of stars while you both talked about the different ways of your species. 

Oltuth clears his throat before he says, “I would like to thank you for the kindness and generosity you have shown me these past few months. If you are okay with it, I would like to show you how the males of my planet thank our females for caring for us the way you have for me”. Excited to learn something new about his species; you quickly agree with an enthusiastic, “Yes.” 

He grabs your smaller hand in his own and brings you inside to the couch. He gently guides you to sit, your butt on the edge of the sofa. Your breath hitches as Oltuth moves his large body between your legs, gently prying your legs open. He kneels before you, gently removing your shorts along with your panties. His long, pointed tongue starts gently lapping at your clit as soft mewls leave your mouth. His jet-black eyes stay trained on your face as you wriggle on the couch. 

His hands grip your thighs tighter as he shifts his tongue into your wet hole. The thickness makes you moan as he licks along your inner walls. You lay back against the cushions, hips thrusting against his face as you slowly feel that beautiful high building. Without warning, you feel something wet, flicking against your swollen clit. Your eyes snap open, and you look down. His large tongue is still buried deep in your cunt, but another slightly smaller tongue is now playing with your needy clit.

You whimper and moan out his name at the double stimulation, tears gathering in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The tip of his tongue flicks along that special spot deep inside you, and you try to close your legs on reflex. Oltuth growls and pulls your thighs further apart, speeding up both of his tongues. 

Your knuckles turn white as your grip tightens on the couch. The tongue inside you practically vibrates with how fast it’s thrusting inside your dripping cunt. Your back arches as the smaller tongue moves to match the speed and vibrations of his bigger tongue. 

You look down again to find Oltuth staring right at you, and with one more thrust, you cum hard, clenching on his tongue, your juices squirting out of you as a scream is ripped from your body. Each clench of your cunt is met with another thrust from him, making your orgasm feel like it lasts for hours. He finally slows down as your legs twitch in his hands, giving you a few final licks to clean you up.

He stands before picking you up and bringing you to your room to lay you on the bed. You give him a smile and say, “I really like how your males say thank you, Oltuth.” He gives you a grin before saying, “That was just to get you ready for the real way we say thank you.” Your eyes widen as you look down at his body. A slit at the apex between his thighs opens as three large cocks extend out, one by one, each a little bigger than the last. 

Your eyes flick back up to his face, and all you can think is that your next book is definitely going to be a smutty alien romance story.

❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Strawberry Sweet

── Azriel x Fem!Witch/Fae Hybrid Reader

also featuring platonic best friend! cassian x reader, and platonic best friend! rhysand x reader

I ~ INTRODUCTIONS ── PART TWO ── TABLE OF CONTENTS

based on [THESE] lyrics

obviously not book canon. references to battles that didn’t happen in the books, ooc inner circle, etc… 🤷🏻‍♀️ no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no descriptions other than reader being shorter than all 3 bat boys. reader is also able to winnow.

When you first met Azriel, you were sure he hated you.

With the rest of the inner circle, it had been easy. You met the High Lord first after saving his life, and you remembered the day like it happened yesterday.

Rhysand had taken to the skies one night, flying over Velaris and looking down at everything below. An ambush on Day Court had all the high lords on edge, with the message that the attackers weren’t finished being loud and clear. He knew it was bad when Helion reached out personally.

When he was attacked, it was 5 against 1. He ended up plummeting nearly 1,000 feet. As luck would have it, you were just returning home from a very late night trip to the markets.

Ever the quick thinker, you snapped your fingers, and all of your purchased goods floated into your home and all put themselves in their proper place. Then you turned your attention to the man falling from the sky. You held out a hand, and a blue light so dark that they almost resembled shadows, flowed from your palm and slowed the man’s descent just before he hit the ground.

You used your other hand to turn you both invisible until you were able to get him into your home.

To keep a long story short, because that was a tale for another time, it took a lot longer to heal him than you thought. You don’t know how much time passed, all you know is that it was completely dark outside when he fell but when you finished, you could see the sun was about to rise.

Rhysand woke up not long after you finished healing his wings.

You anticipated the first question he asked, so you beat him to it. Giving him a brief version, you explained that you were half witch, half fae. You didn’t explain your family history, or how you came to live alone. There was a sense of relief when he didn’t ask more questions, though you could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to.

“Not that I don’t love hosting you, but shouldn’t you be going? I’d imagine a lot of people are worried about you.”

You felt him trying to get into your mind, and wished you could’ve taken a picture of his face when you told him that wouldn’t be possible unless you allowed it. Centuries of practice ensured that even the strongest mind reader wouldn’t be able to access your thoughts so easily.

When he finally felt strong enough to stand, you followed closely behind him as he headed to the door.

“I’m not officially a healer, obviously, but if you ever need help, you may return. I only ask that you don’t tell anyone that I’m here. If word gets to the wrong person—”

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word. You’ve saved my life, and I owe you a debt far greater than anything I could pay you.”

You shook your head and insisted you didn’t need, or want, money.

“Well if there’s ever anything you need, no matter how big the request, please come find me.”

“Thank you, High Lord. I will keep that in mind.”

He managed a small smile. “You used magic to stitch part of my wings back together, please, at least call me Rhys. Or Rhysand if it makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded and after he thanked you again for saving his life, and after you said you did it because you wanted to help and not because you wanted something, he took to the skies. You wondered if you’d ever see him again.

But there was still a war going on, and you shouldn’t have been that surprised when he returned a few weeks later. What did surprise you, and even made you a little angry, was that he had not 1, but 2 people with him. Not living under a rock, you recognized them right away. And this was how you ended up meeting Cassian and Nesta.

That anger disappeared when you saw just how injured Cassian was. He could barely stand, even Nesta was having to help keep him upright.

Turning around, you went back into your home and snapped your fingers. Seconds later, everything on your dining table lay in neat piles on the floor. You were thankful that you’d opted for a larger table, and don’t think he would’ve fit on your bed.

You got to work healing him the moment Rhys set him down on the table. Although you worked fast in an attempt to ease his pain, it was clear he was still in a lot of it.

“I need to put him to sleep. He has broken bones and I promise none of you want him awake when I put them back in place.” You looked up at Nesta then, and for the first time since entering your home, her gaze left her mates, and she looked at you.

Unable to speak, she only nodded, silently giving you permission. He was out not long after that, and you worked for another 2 hours until you were satisfied that he’d be alright.

Nesta finally spoke up then, asking if you were going to wake him up. You explained that while putting him to sleep was fairly easy, you didn’t think it was the best idea to wake him up. That required going deep into his mind and wandering around until you found the part of it where he was waiting. That act in itself would give you access to every thought and memory that Cassian has ever had, and you didn’t like to do that to anyone without their explicit permission.

After explaining that it wouldn’t be long before he woke up on his own, as you redid one of Cassian’s bandages, you noticed Nesta give Rhys a look. He only shook his head and whispered that he trusted you.

You were right as you knew you would be, and it was just 10 minutes later that the general of the Night Court was opening his eyes and sitting up.

“Why… am I on a table??”

Nesta hated showing any sign of being vulnerable, so none were more shocked than Rhys and Cassian when she walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “I don’t know how we can repay you.”

You smiled when the 2 of you stepped apart. “No payment is needed, or wanted. I promise—” It felt like all the air left your body when Cassian took his turn with a hug, only he lifted you off of the ground and seemed to be trying to squeeze the life out of you.

“Cass, I happen to like her and would appreciate you not killing her.”

“Sorry! Just, you know, thanks for saving my life.“

After they left , all repeatedly thanking you on their way out, you wondered if what just happened was some sort of fever dream.

Over the next few months, the 3 would occasionally pop in, but all for different reasons. Rhys was still fascinated by you being half witch, half fae. All he wanted to do was sit and ask questions, and he’d hang on to every word you spoke as you answered. Cassian, who insisted you call him Cass, did come to you for healing. But for ‘injuries’ he very much could’ve handled on his own. He healed faster than a normal human, but you lost count of the amount of times you opened your door, or he opened it and barged in, telling you about a paper cut or the smallest bruise.

The first time Nesta came to visit, and you greeted her with “Lady Nesta”, you almost laughed at the daggers she sent your way. You quickly learned it was just Nesta, or Nes. During her second visit, the subject of fighting somehow came up. You mentioned your basic knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, but that you wished you were more advanced, or at least knew how to fight with a weapon. Ever since then, she’d come to visit at least once a week to try and convince you to join her on training with the Valkyries.

“I don’t know that I’d actually be any good,” you admitted, adding on that you were so used to fighting with your powers that you genuinely couldn’t remember what it was like to do so without them.

A month of pestering persuading had you finally agreeing to sit in on a training session with the Valkyries. And that was how you came to meet Azriel.

The following day, Nesta showed up at your front door bright and early. Well not bright, since the sun had yet to even rise, but with how you felt as you slowly got dressed, you knew it was definitely early. She assured you that Valkyries didn’t always train so early, but she wanted to get some one-on-one training with you.

After a brief discussion in which she promises you’ll end up having fun, you ask if all of her family will be training. She says no, with the Valkyries it’s usually only her and Cass. Rhys occasionally pops his head in to observe, but has been busy with everything going on so not so much lately.

“Oh I forgot you haven’t met everyone yet. Feyre, my sister and Rhys’ mate, prefers to train solo so you probably won’t see her today. Then there’s Azriel, he used to train with us a lot, well help train the women, but Rhys has been sending him out a lot lately. What with everyone being on edge from the attacks, we’re all eager to find out who’s behind it all.”

She explains where to go and you take her hand, winnowing you both to the training grounds.

“There she is!” You jump a little at Cass’ voice. He’s all the way on the other side of the room, but so loud that it’s as if he’s right next to you. He puts down a stack of papers and quickly makes his way over to you and Nesta. “You’re just in time, look.” He holds up his hand, showing you the tiniest of paper cuts on his left index finger.

You can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in yours and use your powers to close the cut.

Nesta shakes her head. “For a warrior, you sure are a big baby.” She turns to you, “you can just tell him to suck it up next time.”

Cass gasps, putting his hands on his face. “She’d never do that! At least she cares about me.”

“Do I really though?” You tilt you head.

“Hey! Just for that I’m not going easy on you today.”

“Wait you’re training me?”

“I’m going to take that as wait really! Wow I’m so lucky Cassian the general of the Night Court is training me. Now chop chop, let’s go!” He gently pushes you towards one of the larger mats on the ground.

You turn back to Nesta, who only shrugs and mouths good luck, before joining the other women.

Much like when you were focused on healing Rhys and Cass, time goes by in a blur. Before you know it, you’ve managed to knock Cass onto his back for the third time. You look at a clock nearby and find that nearly 2 hours have gone by.

“Woo!” The 2 of you stop and turn towards the door and see Feyre leaning against the door frame, clapping as she calls out your name and shouts his congratulations.

Cass rolls his eyes, but smiles when you hold out a hand to help him to his feet. “You kicked my ass today, I’d be a little upset if I wasn’t so impressed.”

When you use your powers to immediately dry all of your sweat, you’re happy you get to use your powers for more mundane things like this.

“Ahem!”

Now it’s you turn to roll your eyes. Still, you face one of your hands towards Cass, and he’s also dry just a few seconds later.

“Thank you,” he gives a dramatic bow before telling you all he’s going to go shower.

Before you can ask why he made you do that if he was just planning to shower anyway, Feyre finally approaches you and Nesta. You become aware of how affectionate the inner circle can be, when Feyre pulls you in for a hug, not saying anything for a moment.

“You saved Rhys, I owe you everything. Thank you,” she whispers.

“I promise, you don’t owe me a thing,” you shake your head. “I’m just happy he ended up falling outside of my home. If it had been anywhere else I wouldn’t have seen it, or I wouldn’t have been able to slow his fall.”

Cass pops his head back in the room. “Anyone know if Az is coming by to train later? I couldn’t get a hold of him earlier.”

Feyre nods, “he got back less than an hour ago, I think he told Rhys he’d be by here at some point. Oh, never mind.”

The last part of her sentence comes when she looks toward the door, this time towards the ground. You watch as what looks like a series of small clouds slowly makes their way towards you. Upon closer inspection, you realize they’re shadows.

“Azriel is a shadowsinger, right?” When Nesta nods, you continue. “Do they often travel like this without him?”

“No,” Feyre watches them get closer. “I mean they can if he sends them somewhere but I don’t see why he’d send them here when he knows it’s only us…”

When the shadows finally reach you, they move faster as if they’re excited. One makes its way to the top of your head, swirling around your face. It’s a cool, almost ticklish sensation. Another weaves its way around your legs, while the last one circles your hands, as if it can sense the power you hold.

Healer.

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean I guess technically yes, among other things. But I’m still working on my healing abilities so—” You look up to find Nesta, Feyre, and Cass all staring at you. “What?”

Cass just stares at you, now with his mouth open in shock.

“We didn’t say anything…”

“Wait did — were you talking to the shadows??”

Now you were confused. “Yes… it asked, well it said I was a healer and I was just explaining—”

“You can understand them?!”

“I… they don’t speak to all of you?” You watched in amazement as the shadows continued to explore you.

Cass finally breaks his silence. “No. We’ve never heard them say anything. How the hell…”

Magic. Friend.

You smile. Holding your hands out and palms facing up, you produce 2 dark blue clouds a lot similar in appearance to the shadows. They swarm your clouds, but return to you once they realize that they’re not real shadows.

Feyre observes this, a small smile on her face. “Interesting.”

All at once, 2 of the 3 shadows stop their movements, then quickly make their way back out of the room. A minute later, the shadowsinger himself enters the room.

“Dude!” Cass began to make his way towards his brother, but Nesta elbows him in the ribs as she grabs his arm to keep him in place.

When Azriel looks at you, he freezes. He can only stand and watch as the shadow that remained in the room continues to move between your hands and your head. But when you look up at him, your first thought is that you’ve somehow offended him with your actions, so you drop your hands and step back, closer to Nesta.

The lone shadow finally returns to Azriel, hovering around his right ear. You wish you could hear what it’s telling him.

You’re further embarrassed when all Azriel does is quickly look away from you before he asks Cass to speak to him.

Once the 2 men are out of the room, you voice your concerns out loud. “I should apologize when Azriel comes back in.”

Nesta looks at you, clearly confused. “What, why would you apologize? You haven’t done anything.”

“I just… I don’t think he liked that his shadows were paying so much attention to me. I don’t know if he heard me speaking to one but I don’t want to offend him or cause any trouble.”

Feyre’s expression softened. She replaced Nesta at your side, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “That’s just Azriel, at least with someone he isn’t familiar with yet. It’s not often we bring anyone new around. He just needs time.”

You didn’t stay much longer after that, chatting to the 2 Archeron sisters for only a few more minutes before making an excuse to leave. It was obvious why you were in such a rush, but you were grateful that neither woman tried to persuade you to stay.

When you finally winnowed back to your home, you forced yourself to take a shower before collapsing onto your bed. Maybe a nap was what you needed.

You couldn’t help but think about Azriel. Everyone else was quick to warm up to you, and you still thought that you offended him by how you interacted with his shadows.

As you lay there and waited for sleep to pull you under, you wondered if he’d end up hating you.

what a shitty place to end it hahdjdnsdkc BUT part 2 picks up right where this leaves off! if i kept going we’d end the chapter at like 6k which is too long for my liking.

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[bunny-jpeg]

small military things - 141

"what is the comfort item the men of task force 141 keep close to remind them of the most important thing in their life, you." - starring: john price, simon riley, kyle garrick and john mactavish

a/n: was this inspired? yes. inspired by what? you can probably guess..

captain john price: call him an old romantic, but he keeps a photo of you in his helmet. tucked away in the straps, out of sight but still in his mind. you were always n his mind, while he laid in the uncomfortable cot, he thought about your sugary voice and the sweetness between your legs. he thought of home, how you were probably tucked away in bed. while he wasn't there to protect you, he knew that he was keeping the world safe and therefore you safe. the love of his life! it was of you smiling, that time you went to the zoo and the keeper put a large snake across your shoulders. you were laughing, a reminder to price that he had to do everything he could to keep the laughter coming. seeing that beautiful smile. but it also burned something fierce in the captain, a need for his missus. just make sure to send another printed out picture of you in your next care package because his other one, well, got a ruined.

lieutenant simon riley: he gifted you patches from his military gear. they were old, frayed at the edges. a sign of well worn material. he didn't need to wear "riley" across his chest anymore while on base. but you, you were the mrs. riley! if anyone should have it, it was you. and in return you gifted him a small bear plush. officer bear was the name that you gave it, even though simon explained that officer wasn't a very high rank, but he still took the toy. he never owned stuffed animals, the ones in his home were yours. but officer bear was a nice comfort item on base. he stayed there when simon left for a mission (safer that way). however, simon had to put the stuffed toy in the closet while he masturbated. but he did touch himself to thoughts of you cuddled up with the plush toy once he came home, the brown bear's soft head stuck between your breasts while you cuddled with it. soon simon thought about his big head between your soft breasts. how many more days was it till lt. riley and officer bear got to go home to the missus?

sergeant kyle garrick: he would say his little military thing was that he slept with your old university hoodie as a pillow case when he was on base. the worn fabric, the wear and tear around the cuffs of the sleeves from how well loved it had been. the brick red coloured fabric up against his cheek while he slept - memories of you. however, he had another article of clothing that he kept in his tactical vest. it wasn't from university, but rather your wedding night - thin cotton panties that you wore on your wedding night. pastel blue that held precious memories of the lovely, stunning mrs. garrick. however it was hard to clean when 141 does their laundry, everything is put together, so it was rather up against his face rather than around his cock when he gets a few quiet of moments for stress relief.

sergeant john mactavish: things have moved a long way since the second world war, now john can simply text you, every little thought that comes into his mind. some days he cannot text; trainings, missions, flights, etc. but when he got his phone back, the cracked screen with the flimsy scotland themed case (that you bought him), he was texting you. maybe some of those messages would make the likes of price look away out of modesty, but for the most part john behaved. but you had woken up to hi waxing poetically about how much he wanted to eat you out when he got home - only weeks till he got to have the sweetest fruit of the highlands once more. - he wanted to eat you out. he always tried to egg you on to tease him i situations where he couldn't jerk off. he loved the rush of your dirty talk over text! and he could save it for later, your dirty text continued to be the subject of his sexual fantasies after he retired and got to have your sweet pussy every night.

[latenightdaydreams]

I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.

It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶

Laundry Day (fem)

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff

.

.

König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.

König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.

“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”

“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”

“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.

At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.

“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”

“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.

You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”

“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.

You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.

“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”

“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.

You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.

“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.

König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.

“Do you understand?!”

“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.

“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused. 

He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next. 

Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.

As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.

“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.

“What?”

König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.

“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”

“Sure.”

König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.

“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”

He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.

“And I’ll never do it again.”

“And?”

“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”

You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.

“Good. I also want a massage.”

“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.

“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”

He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.

[xoxochb]

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“you’re an angel, perseus.”

in one entire swift movement, you take the blue-colored cookie from percy’s hand, pecking his cheek whilst he settles back beside you.

he mirrors your own seating position, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the fire escape as his hands grasp the bars to steady himself.

“I like to think so.”

you finish the cookie in three bites before wiping your hands together to discard of crumbs. “don’t let it get to your head.” you poke at his skull.

yet, percy takes your wrist, kissing your palm and fingertips before entwining your hands. “too late. tell me I’m the sexiest man you’ve ever met.”

“what about: you’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever met? the most insatiable? the neediest? the—”

“I get it, sweet girl, if you hate me just say that.”

you don’t try to fight your growing smile. “oh yeah, you’re my eternal enemy. we hate each other, remember?”

“careful,” percy warns playfully, thumb grazing your engagement ring. “that’s how you ended up with this.”

“seems hatred will get you far in life.” you nod. “and a husband. nice!”

percy untangles your hands to wrap his arm around your shoulder, tugging you flush against him with a messy kiss to the top of your head.

the sun begins to set slowly across the horizon and tall buildings. you’d waited here for a half an hour, awaiting the sun’s dismissal. percy had opted to join you with eagerness.

“eight-thirty tonight,” he refers to the sunset. each day later than the last as summer approaches.

percy had begun a nightly tradition regarding the sunset’s time, he proposed the idea that each day it got later, would be a day closer to your wedding in the summer.

you had told him that it would be a day closer regardless how late the sun set but he denied your nonsense, claiming that the sun would set the latest on your wedding day because fate.

it was one in the morning and you were too tired to argue further so you agreed with his plan and went along with it to keep him happy.

“what’s your guess for tomorrow?” you reach and kiss his cheek again.

“eight-thirty-five. I bet ten bucks on it.”

you giggle. “well don’t get upset when your ten dollar-less tomorrow night.”

“I love that you have faith in my fortune telling abilities, sweet girl.”

“of course. because your obviously a psychic.”

“exactly!” happily, he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “ask me what we’ll be doing at exactly ten-forty-five tonight.”

you grimace sarcastically. “I’ve got a guess but I’m choosing to ignore it, instead reminding you that your mother is sleeping just across the apartment.”

“is that supposed to stop me…?”

“okay—” you stand up, attempting to hide a laugh. “okay.”

“okay to what? my advances? or my carelessness? or both?”

percy stands quickly, following you inside through the living room, closing the door behind him. “okay, you’re a fucking weirdo.”

“that’s just mean, sweet girl.”

you roll your eyes and continue on your way, greeting sally on your way to percy’s bedroom. he doesn’t like that brief pit-stop very much.

but it also turns out he doesn’t like your deliberate turn-downs to his advances. he does enjoy, however, your returning to camp two days later to a very private cabin.

[creaseevans]

Jujutsu Kaisen Headcanons - Suguru Geto

Suguru's the type of guy...

SFW: 

Suguru’s the soccer/hockey mom type of guy: he carries snacks, band aids, ibuprofen, tissues, gum, hair ties, and a spare set of socks in his bag at all times. That’s actually how you met him: you were at the coffee shop and asked several tables around you for a band aid (after the barista said they didn’t have any) until Suguru came over with one. He also offered a couple of alcohol swabs to clean things off before applying it.

Suguru’s the type of guy to forget to introduce himself. He gets so engrossed in the person in front of him and what they’re saying that he completely forgets how social interactions are supposed to go. You had to ask him at some point what you’re supposed to call him. He had to think about it for a moment as if he’d forgotten his own name.

(After chatting for almost an hour, he asked yours and you, very forwardly, also gave him your number.)

He’s the type of guy who drinks anything BUT plain coffee with milk and sugar, you conclude by the fourth date. The man will drink matcha, he will drink hot cocoa, he will drink iced or warm lattes with butt loads of cold foam or sweet syrups drizzled throughout, and he will drink LOTS of fruity teas. But a plain coffee with just milk and sugar may actually kill him?

Not only is Suguru the type of guy to paint his own nails, but he also insisted on teaching you after discovering how badly you do the edges (it’s hard!!!!). He likes for you both to have matching or complimentary manicures. It’s also a complete waste that he taught you how to paint because he never lets you do it and always wants to do your manicures and pedicures himself. Sunday nights are for the fingies and toes.

(Coincidentally, he HATES the smell of polish and remover. He has to wear a clip on his nose the entire time that makes his voice all high and nasally.)

Suguru is that guy with a seven-step skincare and five-step hair care routine. You can’t even describe the face he made upon discovering your simple shampoo-and-conditioner, face wash-and-moisturizer antics. But you do wish you’d taken a picture of it.

He totally forgets to eat sometimes. You wonder how it’s possible for him to be the size and height he is if this has always been the case. That is until you share your first real dinner together and he eats nearly five thousand calories in one sitting. He then proceeds to finish your leftovers as well. When you ask him about this deranged behaviour, he just shrugs and says, “I don’t know. I love food, but I don’t really think about it unless it’s in front of me.”

Suguru hasn’t worked out in a gym in almost two years, apparently. He just does runs and “generic labour” at the farm he works at. The solid abs and bouldered deltoids he hides underneath baggy clothes would beg to differ.

Suguru is a total plant princess. The first time you went to his place, you weren’t sure if it wasn’t a greenhouse. Potted wonders and vines and vases were all over the place. This came as even more earth-shattering when a little white cat tinkered her way through the hall and snuggled her butt right up against your ankles. “Oh, no, she knocks things over all the time. But I can’t exactly get mad at her, so I just re-pot everything. That’s why all of these are melamine or recycled plastic.”

That’s another thing about Suguru: he has tremendous amounts of patience. You’ve never met anyone as kind or forgiving as him. You’ve asked him to share his meditation routine with you but he keeps lying about not having one.

(The cat’s name is Dandelion; Dandy for short. She’s a white domestic short-hair with blue eyes and a pink button nose.)

Suguru’s a very formal type of guy. You didn’t expect it, but he took you out on a proper date and verbally said the words “Will you be my girlfriend?” and then proceeded to clarify with “Like, romantically. Not like a friend who’s also a girl—which is totally fine, if that’s what you prefer to be, I just—” and that’s when you cut him off with a kiss and he settled down.

He’s the type of guy to love openly and quickly. It’s less than two months in when he just casually drops an “I love you” on you one morning as you’re on the toilet and he dips his head in to grab a hair brush. Then he simply leaves you to marinate in it while you sit there in shock, unmoving except for the plop-plop-plop in the toilet.

In contrast to how casually he’s able to deliver the sentiment, he’s entirely floored when you return it in bed that same night. He’s so taken that he stops moving and has to wait a moment to get it back together. But after that one still moment, the rest of it feels like you’re being attacked by a tornado.

Suguru’s the type of guy to leave “I love you” sticky notes by your bedside or on your door. One time, you decided to keep the note and stuck it on something at his place before leaving. It was returned to you on your laptop the next day. It’s now become a sort of game between you; sometimes the notes get passed back and forth so long that the adhesive on the back completely dissipates. After writing a new one, you both toss a coin to decide who gets to keep the old one. Suguru’s won seven out of ten tosses, so far.

He’s not the type to gloat when he wins. Somehow, he finds a way to turn his wins into yours. Like how he ended up with most of the old “I love you” post-its but folded them into paper flowers and put them on artificial stems. He gave you the bouquet on your one-year anniversary. You bawled like a little bitch.

Suguru hates seeing you cry or hurt. It’s the only time you’ve seen him distressed. It makes him physically sick and you can tell by how pale and sweaty he gets. He banks his sick days at work since you started dating. Every month when you get your period, Suguru hibernates at your place with you for the first three days because he knows they’re the hardest. He cooks for you, keeps you showered and clean, massages you, naps with you, cleans for you, and he’s at your general beck and call otherwise. Your favourite part is always ordering in impulsive cravings and watching your favourite shows or movies. You also enjoy breaking into the piggy bank of sweets and candy he saves up for you all month.

He’s the type to slowly move you both in together without your ever realizing. Roughly a year in, you discovered just how much of your stuff was now filling in his otherwise spacious new place. The only things left at your apartment were a few pairs of clothes and your mattress (everything else was part of the owner’s furnishings). This little scheme dawned on you when your lease was up and instead of helping you look for another place, Suguru conveniently chimed, “Oh, why don’t you just stay with me? All your stuff’s here anyways.”

(As formal as he is, turns out he was too shy to ask you to move in. He thought giving you a key to his place as a Christmas present was a big enough hint and has no idea how you didn’t clock it. You tell him you would have said yes if he’d just asked. He just blushes and smiles.)

Suguru is a big tipper at restaurants and cafes. He often tips more than the actually meal or drink costs. You fear this may have detrimental effects on his finances, but he somehow manages to keep things running more than smoothly. Suspiciously smoothly.

Turns out, he doesn’t just work at the farm. He actually (very successfully, too) co-owns it with his best friend Satoru, which leads to the next point: Suguru’s just the type of guy to downplay exactly how well he’s doing or how much he has. (He has a lot.)

Since he wakes up ridiculously early most mornings to tend to farmwork, Suguru’s the type of guy to cook you an elaborate, three course breakfast each time and leave it covered in the oven with a note on the door for you to enjoy. Meanwhile, he shoots back a creamy, sugary beverage or two and just raw dogs the rest of the day on an empty stomach until the late lunch or dinner you share together. You’re trying to help him remember to eat more often, so you’ve started packing him just as elaborate lunches and snack packs at night once he’s gone to bed. You have to text or call him to remind him to actually eat out of them. He always enjoys them when he does.

NSFW:

Suguru takes his sweet time initiating sex for the first time. Upon reaching week four of the relationship with not a lick of intimacy, you had to break the ice on the subject. Suguru was surprised, then laughed it off. “No, I’m not asexual. I just didn’t want to weird you out or get right into sex without your deliberate consent.”

(You gave it to him instantly.)

Since his middle name is basically serenity, you were a bit worried as to how the sex would go. You don’t altogether mind the notion of “love making,” but you’re also not a purely vanilla person by nature.

Suguru’s generously girthy and lands in the seven-inch range. He’s uncut and always shaves everything clean off. You’ve never seen a crotch as hairless as his. There’s a thick vein that runs from below his belly button, down his beautifully carved pelvis and right up the length of his shaft. You like tracing it with your tongue and watching his reactions. He gets real breathy and sensitive about it.

Suguru can last a while, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take the time to service you in at least two to three other ways before finally giving you what you want. He’s quite the skilled tradesman with both his tongue and his hands, but you prefer his long, knuckly fingers over the former. Something about the veins and muscles in his arms when he endlessly plunges palm-deep inside of you drives you right over the edge. While he’s quite humble otherwise, getting you to orgasm is one thing he’s quite smug about. The way he smirks when you fall apart for him is absolutely sadistic.

Contrary to his soft, silky personality and demeanour, he’s quite the devil in arms behind closed doors. (Sometimes, those doors aren’t even closed.) 

He’s a biter (genuinely shocking). He likes to mark you in places where nobody would be able to see it and find out just how rough and territorial your sweet, doting boyfriend truly is. Such places include your back, your tits (specifically, right around your nipples), the plush of inner thigh right at the apex of your legs, the outer skinfolds right next to your “perfectly suckable lips” (no, NOT your mouth), and all over the meat of your ass.  

Suguru doesn’t eat pussy; he makes out with it. He French kisses and has an affair with it. Just let him do it and expect to be there for the better part of an hour, probably. Nothing you say or do can deter him from his “favourite meal in the whole world.”

He has no problem putting you in your place when it comes to sex. It’s genuinely some alter ego type shit. The change is a complete 180, to the point that you sometimes feel like you’re cheating on your amazing, loving boyfriend with some sex-crazed maniacal psychopath that leaves you shuddering and unable to stand on your feet for a good few hours afterwards without buckling knees or trembling thighs. The only part that reminds you they’re the same person is when he gently cleans you up afterwards and apologetically kisses all the places where he’d bit, clawed, smacked or choked only moments ago. The comedown is nearly as thrilling as the experience itself.

Suguru loves mocking and demeaning you with simultaneously praiseworthy titles. Phrases like “My precious little whore,” “Perfect fucking slut,” or “My stupidly pretty princess” roll off his tongue just as easily as “My little baby,” “Good fucking girl,” and your personal favourite: “My little pussy fairy.” It’s quite the whiplash.

Suguru fucks like his life depends on it. All the calm and peace behind his foxy monolids drains the moment he realizes what’s about to happen. The fire and hunger that replaces that calm is enough to make your heart plunge down and drop out through your ass every single time regardless of how often it happens. He is not a gentle lover, and you couldn’t be more thankful for how viciously he strokes or how diligently he chokes or how shamelessly he orders you to open your mouth so he can fill it with his fingers and spit into the back of your throat while the head of his cock breaks the rim of your cervix and your eyes roll like a slot machine into your skull.

He wasn’t as vocal at first because he was shy and anxious that you would get turned off by it. Turns out, when he moans and whimpers it’s so fucking delicate that your pussy flutters just at the sounds that come out of him. While you enjoy his gruff snarls and grunts and the tone of his poetic degradation, you take every chance you can get your hands on to have him undone and vulnerable, shivering and trembling and nearly sobbing from ecstasy at the worship you deliver.

Suguru never makes you beg or ask for it. He does like to hear you say what you want, but he often readily delivers your services on a golden platter. He’s just so generous like that.

While he gets to address you with all kinds of pet names and kinky titles, he only ever wants you to call him “Suguru” between the sheets. “Baby” is too vague, and nothing else quite establishes his dominance over you the same as hearing gasps of his name over and over again while you convulse and shatter against him, so soft and weak and vulnerable that it makes his heart stop.

He makes you keep your eyes open and on him at all times. “Keep your focus on me,” “Look at what I’m doing to you, keep watching,” “Look at me with those pretty eyes, I wanna see how big they get when you come for me,” “Don’t you dare look away,” all of that. Even when you’re kissing now you’re both always looking at one another. You don’t think you can go back to kissing with your eyes closed again.

He asked you in the beginning if you want him to use condoms just so you wouldn’t have to deal with contraceptive side effects. You used them a few times before realizing how badly you wanted to just fluid bond with him. He has never complained about this; he’s ready to face any consequences, should they happen. And while he loves going to pro-choice rallies with you, he does fantasize from time to time about a little version of you running around the farm, driving him crazy with worry.

Suguru’s favourite place to come is on your face, because your face is his favourite sight in the entire world. Yes, he loves your body. But it was your nervous smile and hopeful eyes that caught his eye the very first time and kept him looking back again and again. Seeing his cum streaked across your gorgeous lips and dripping down your cheeks and chin is a mental image he frequents regularly throughout the day.

(One day, you make him lick the cum off your face and feed it to you by kiss. This changes his brain chemistry forever. You’re definitely the one.)

[cutielights]

Hi!! I don't know what I'm doing so I apologize if I'm doing this wrong, please bare with me haha. Can I ask for something with the Rise guys and a hypervigilant/otherwise anxious S/O? Even if not your stuff is super sweet and good comfort material, have a nice day ^^

hey lovely! <3 you’re not doing this wrong at all! This sounds super sweet :D <3

Merging req’s bc they have the same vibe

also you requested this over a year ago anons TvT I AM SO SORRY!!! <3333

Reader is G/N as always! Unspecified if you are human or a yo’kai

Rise Boys X Hyper-Anxious S/O

Content: reader has an anxiety (?) attack. comfort.

LEO

Leo knows how it feels, his insomnia worsening after the Kraang, anxiety through the roof. So of course he knows how to comfort you!

Tea time’s with him become more frequent after the Kraang, an attempt to bring some calmness back into both of your lives.

The hidden city skate park is usually a loud, busy, fun place. But on some days it becomes overwhelming, anxiety inducing, the people about making you bristle at the very touch of brushing arms.

He’ll catch up to you, hand landing on a stiff shoulder. His face falters at your tense expression.

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You want me to portal us out?”

“Yeah.”

You don’t land in the Lair, you land on a rooftop, on the outskirts of the Hidden City. The view is nice, and you rest your head on his shoulder to admire it. Touch within your control. Leo wraps an arm around you, sneakily watching your face out the corner of his eye.

RAPH

He’s always vigilant and looking out for his brothers. So with you? Of course he’ll understand, take up the mantle of your protector. It’s no trouble for big red.

Snuggles are a must. Lying on his plastron. Gentle touches on your back. Soft circles rubbed into the base of your spine. Lazy shapes traced onto your arm by the edge of his claws, being ever so careful not to hurt or startle you in the process.

“You feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Too much today?”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna stay with Raph a little longer?”

The stuffies surrounding you guys have comfy faces, the kind of cute faces that disintegrate all your anxieties. You stare at them for a while longer, relaxing into your boyfriend’s hold.

You feel a kiss pressed to your forehead, butterflies flitting around your stomach in response. Smiling, you lean up to kiss his cheek, getting the same smile in return.

DONNIE

The Lab is quiet, soft ambiance usually enough to soothe your mind.

But on the days where it’s not? The days where it feels as if everyone is out to get you? Donatello will just scoop you up, moving you to sit on his lap as he works.

“Sorry, I, I know I should have asked.”

“No, it’s fine… you feel safe.”

“…You feel safe too.”

“Hug?”

“Hug.”

The soft clicking of keys on his keyboard as he’s typing, the slight movement of one hand up and down your back. It feels nice. It feels like a warm blanket, your safety net to fall back on.

The different plants in the corner of the lab mellow out the smell of old coffee. A recognisable smell, one you’ve grown accustomed to. It’s so familiar that just the scent alone relaxes your body now.

Quiet beeps and chirps come through the lab, melting into white noise. You can see blue light reflecting in his glasses from the corner of your eye.

Peace at last.

MIKEY

He’s so quiet and gentle with you when you need it, perhaps after an anxiety attack he wasn’t there for, or when he can sense one coming on. If he finds you curled up in a dark corner, away from the people and the noise, his eyes will soften, carefully moving closer to sit next to you.

“Are you okay….?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been crying?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“…”

“…”

“Do you want a hug?”

“Yeah.”

A warm, comforting, soft hug. It feels like returning home after a hard day, you really should ask for more of these. Kisses lightly peppered all over your face just to elicit a giggle out of you.

You guys can stay together away from the people all day if you want.

He has blanket forts set up in his room, an absurd amount of them. You can stay there on bad days when all feels lost, watching him draw in his sketchbook. The soothing sound of pencil over paper and indecipherable murmuring enough to send you to sleep.

ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref ockeroid ref

[sorcerous-caress]

Type of romantic gifts they'd give you

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]

Wyll

Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.

Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.

A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.

.

Karlach

Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.

Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.

Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.

.

Gale

Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.

A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.

Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.

.

Shadowheart

Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.

Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.

Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.

.

Astarion

Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.

The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.

Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.

.

Laezel

Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.

Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.

Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.

.

Halsin

Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.

You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.

Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.

.

Minthara

jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.

Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.

The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.

.

Karniss

Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.

Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.

Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.

[ajortga]

opposites attract

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: people would call you and jenna the old married couple from across the street, you'd always argue. you hate each other so much, but you love each other even more.

word count: 2.1k+

warnings: alcohol, goofiness, hilarious imo

based off request! (love you 🦦)

-

ME AGAIN. I JUST LOVE TO SEND OUT REQUESTS FOR SPECIFIC WRITERS 🙏🏻

Jenna Ortega! x Reader!

"In every friend group, there are always two people arguing"

holy shit this dynamic is so cute, it's like wherein obvi J and R likes to argue a lot, whether it be going out w friends, in set, sleepovers, literally just everywhere all the time.. In the end obviously they get together 🙈 YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER W THE PLOT IF YOU'D LIKE.

Completely understand if the request isn't taken!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM, I LOVE YOU

-🦦

-

It’s silent on set where Scream is being filmed. Silence would’ve filled your break room, that would be if you and Jenna weren’t damn yelling at each other over the littlest of things.

“You fucking cheated!” You accuse, pointing your finger at her as you go crazy and throw your Uno cards everywhere.

The tinier girl puts her hands up, putting one to her chest to pretend to be offended, “The Y/N is accusing me of cheating? When will I clearly won fair and square?”

That throws you off the edge, screaming into a pillow and kicking your feet, then throwing the pillow straight to her head. “I saw you looking at my cards dumbass!”

The atmosphere is chaotic as you two throw pillows at each other, one of them hits Melissa in the nose, “Hey!” She goes, throwing a pillow to Mason, which throws it to Jasmine.

Everyone is throwing their pillows at each other, screaming and laughing. Actually, not everyone is screaming, the only ones are you and Jenna.

“I WAS GLANCING AT THE SCENERY.”

“SINCE WHEN WAS THE SCENERY MY CARDS?” You yell, throwing the stuffed animal at her.

Jasmine nudges Melissa, who lets her pillow down and lets her friend whisper in her ear, “Who’s going to tell them that they’re flirting?” 

A cackle escapes the other actress, “She’s definitely always thinking Y/N is the beautiful scenery. In which she is, she’s like the days that have the best sunsets. She’s a sweetheart.”

That was true. Although Jenna won’t admit it. You were breathtaking. You were like the movie that everyone wants to watch again for the first time. Whose voice was a gentle lullaby that lulled those into a peaceful rest. A work of art, Jenna would say. A work of art she’d fucking hate, yet still buy it’s worth for billions of dollars more than they should be.

“Okay FINE! I peeked! I just saw that you had a yellow seven! That’s it!”

“Exactly!” You say, throwing the stuffed animal up and victory, “Nuh uh, you also said half-way through the game as a joke “I bet you have a blue four,” and I had a blue four!”

“FINE, but that was all!”

“Whatever.”

Mason rolls his eyes as he leans back into his chair, throwing a huge stuffed animal and making you collapse and go, “Hey!”

“They’re gonna get married one day, they’re like an old married couple,” He states, and everyone that hears agrees, except you two. You two are too caught up with arguing with each other, smacking pillows at each other.

“Asshole.”

Grunt!

“Bitch.”

Smack!

“Weirdo!”

“Goofball!”

Plomp!

“Silly!”

“Pretty!”

“Sweet girl.”

“Lovely!”

“Gosh, well aren’t they oblivious?” Jasmine scoffs, “Their flirting and don't even know it, they’ll use that as an excuse for another argument again. Melissa watches, amused, and laughing in the background with a cackle. You two are hitting each other with any pillows you can find.

-

liked by melissabarreram and 1,890,072 others

y/n_l/n this is very not an appreciation post for jenna, the first two i'm posting cause she told me not to but she cheated in uno and she's getting what she deserves! (someone save me from this mad woman)

#justicefory/n i hate you @jennaortega

-

melissabarreram: My babies #justicefory/n

liked by y/n_l/n

natalieortega1: Love you

↳ y/n_l/n: love u too!

crunchybaguette55: y/n is seriously blessing us with these photos

aliyah.ortega: nah why is jenna more flexible than me

liked by y/n_l/n

user839: watch jenna is gonna post something about her

jasminsavoy: lovebirds

liked by y/n_l/n

y/n'spersonalbag: SHE POSTED I'M EARLY

jennaortega: I hate you

↳ y/n_l/n: Ilyt

-

Melissa screams while the members of the cast begin to elevate up the roller coaster. 

“Oh god!” Mason shouts, while you two begin to lift off the floor from the free fall device.

“If the machine were to break and fall, would we bounce out of our seats or bang our head?” Jenna questions, looking down at her feet that are currently 100 to 150 feet off the ground.

You’re right next to her, yet you have to shout because of how loud the machine is, “Nuh uh! None of that stuff, if the machine were to break, then the starting point wouldn’t be as lifted and our feet would probably dislocate.” 

“Pfft, nonsense,” Jenna rolls her eyes, and you try kicking her but as you reach the top, it slowly begins to stop lifting up. 

“Guys!” Jasmine yells, looking down at the floor, she’s still holding her pretzel in her hand. The people below you now look like at least the size of a caterpillar. 

“It’s kind of tall!” Melissa says, but she’s giggling.

“No damn shit!” You say, looking at the floor and preparing for your heart to fly out of your chest, “Hold my hand!” Jenna jokes while you roll her eyes at her.

When you stop at the top, the machine makes a loud “TCCHhhHH” noise, and you are all still. 

“I DON’T WANNA DIE,” Mikey and Devyn cry, screaming.

“We haven’t even gone down- YET!” Everyone starts screaming as the seats you’re in descends at fast speeds. You all scream, high pitched, wails, singing to get your mind off of whatever. Devyn and Jasmine flutter their eyes and do a peace sign when the camera flashes. 

You close your eyes, the machine goes back up, then down, you’re screaming, laughing as Mason’s sandal falls out, “No! My shoe!”

It hits the person operating the roller coaster.

Somehow, your hand finds Jenna’s as you cling onto it, she doesn’t let go, giggling with you as you two fall. It was a nice moment, the breeze in your hair with the sunset saying hello. Except you don’t know if the moment got better or was ruined because before you can appreciate it, Jasmine screams, louder than she had when everyone dropped.

“My pretzels!” She screams, falling out of her hand and flying into the air, the cinnamon pretzels falling and smacking you and Jenna in the face as you feel a flash in your face again, you pose just as it clicks.

“I WANNA GO HOME!” Mason wails, “Where the fuck is my shoe? MY SHOE!”

By the time you reach ground level, everyone’s hair is ruffled, eyes dazed as your legs shake when you leave the machine.

You’re still holding hands with Jenna as you almost collapse on each other, you feel dizzy, probably because the machine was damn spinning and a pretzel got smacked into your face.

"You okay?" she asks, looking at your dizzied form.

"Mmhm, are you okay?" you ask, the feeling of throwing up going away.

She nods, letting you cling onto her as she hugs you tight.

"You're so weak," she teases.

"Says the one who screamed more from a pretzel being thrown in her face than the actual ride."

She smacks you, but nonetheless, still holds you tight to her chest.

Mason looks at the floor, and claps, turning happy, “My sandal!”

Everyone is groaning, Melissa is snorting and looking sick while Devyn and Jasmine shove their hands through the little amount of pretzels left in their bag.

You’re not surprised when everyone busts out laughing, pointing at the pictures of you on the rollercoaster. The first one, Devyn and Jasmine were making peace signs while somehow being able to do the slightest pose, Mason’s shoe is flying and you can see his mouth wide open with one foot barefoot, Melissa is smiling with cotton candy in her mouth, and you and Jenna are screaming and clinging onto each other.

The next one gets more chaotic, with Jasmine and Devyn looking horrified, the whole picture has pretzels flying and hits Jenna and you square in the head. Yet, the frame only catches Jenna’s face being smacked while you’re posing with your hands and blowing a kiss.

You’re laughing so hard, everyone is buying the photos, you can’t stop laughing as Jenna screams from the horror.

“How did they only take a picture when the pretzel gets to me?" She groans.

-

liked by jackchampion and 4,971,391 others

jennaortega i don't know how that little girl managed to hide all her bad photos on my phone but melissa took a photo of her falling asleep on my shoulder, i did not cheat! cancel!! @y/n_l/n

jasminsavoy: little? girl, you're the size of a strawberry.

↳ jennaortega: fuck you respectfully

y/n_l/n: NO i was sleeping because filming was so long

↳ jennaortega: yeah and you decided to sleep on my shoulder, do you know how heavy your head is?

↳ y/n_l/n: meanie

jennasorange: I love you Jenna please notice me

melissabarreram: Love!

natalieortega1: My girls

fruitrollupsa: omg someone confirm are they official

jackchampion: I saw you looking at y/n's cards

↳ jennaortega: no you didn't

↳ jackchampion: actually i did 🤓☝️

-

It was a little after sunset, where outside is painted a blue and purple sky.

“To a long day of maintaining our sanity for today’s long duration of filming!” Devyn says, raising her drink.

“To a long day of maintaining our sanity!” Everyone else cheers, you bring your drinks up and clank them with one another before downing it.

You liked it like this. Having parties every Friday with your scream cast. They were your family, most times you’d have sleepovers, play card games, video games, gossip. Silly photos were taken, and these polaroids were always hung on your wall of memories, Melissa holding her puppy while doing a bridge gymnastic pose, risking her skull from literally cracking.

You take the sip of beer in your hands, with a wide smile on your face. It’s nice knowing you have a group that you can easily fit in, you don’t have to think to speak, you can just do it freely.

A few minutes turn into an hour.

Melissa turns to you, pointing at you and smiling, "You're going to be the first one to get wasted, your cheeks are all pink."

"No their not!" You retaliate, a small slur to your words as you lean on the couch for balance.

"Right," Jasmine says, sarcastically as Jack and Mason are screaming at each other.

"Jack no! If you take that one off then the whole tower will fall! We can't lose!" Mason screams, the Jenga tower tilting.

You giggle.

You catch sight of Jenna and you throw your arms up, stumbling to her while slurring her name slightly, "Jennaaaa, where were youu?"

The brunette looks at you, confusion shown in her futures as she looks at your tiny self, looking up at her and tugging at the collar of her shirt. Your eyes sparkle.

"You're seriously already a little drunk?" She questions, amused as you groan and shake your head, "Noo, shut 'p. You're drunk tooo Jennifer. I literally am not drunk, I know waaht m doing."

"Right, right."

"Jennifer, kiss my forehead,"

"If you call me Jennifer one more time I swear to-"

"Jellybean?"

Jenna rolls her eyes, hugging you and kissing your forehead, "Love you," she murmurs.

"I love you tooo."

She sits you down to the couch where you get the sight of Mason, Jack, Melissa, and Liana are battling each other in Jenga.

"I'm not drunk, I just drank a little, I'm perfectly fine," she states. You don't say anything, instead distract yourself with the large jacket draped over her, you tug it, "I'm cold, give me that."

Jenna looks down at you, trying to take off her jacket, "Hey! What if I'm cold too?"

"Can we share?"

Jenna sighs, rolling her eyes, "Come here," you nestle into her as the jacket plays as a blanket.

It's not enough to cover the two of you, so she throws it into her bag and grabs a large blanket and lays it on the floor. The hollers of the Jenga crew grow loud as the tower tumbles over because of Jack.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT ONE IT WAS GOING TO FALL"

"OH YEAH, oops. I forgot." Jack says, putting his hands up in surrender.

The blanket is huge, it can fit at least 4 people.

"Hey Melissa, over here, let's turn into a burrito or something." The taller Latina that's non-occupied looks at you two, seeing the way you're already laying on the blanket, ready to be wrapped up.

You're squished in the middle as Melissa giggles and Jenna begins to roll over and wrap you 3 in the blanket.

"Oh my god," you three roll till the blanket space runs out, now you guys are cuddled, nestling into each other.

Cozy for sure, all of their arms are wrapped around you and each other as you close your eyes, getting comfortable.

"I hate you two," Jenna murmurs, both you and Melissa go "me too" before you two are silent.

"No you don't," you slur, "You love us."

"I don't, I love you guys," she giggles, and you and Melissa smile, hugging each other and letting the sound of music from the party echoing in your ears.

-

a/n: didn't know how to make them confess, so the ending is kind of suggested that they did? hopefully that's okay<3

[aikaterini-drag]

Fragile Embrace

Summary: Bucky is afraid to hug you tightly because of the serum in his system. You sweetly convince him otherwise.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: established relationship, implied smut, fluff, intimacy.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows across the walls in your bedroom. Bucky sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, his shoulders tense, his hands clasped. He stayed silence, every inch of him hating his strength—the damned serum that felt like a curse.

Across the room, you watched him with concern and understanding. You had seen this struggle in him before, the internal battle he waged against his own abilities. He was afraid to let his true strength show, afraid to be anything other than super gentle with you.

You approached him slowly, your footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. Still, he could hear you. He was a super soldier, he knew the rhythm of your heartbeats inside out, knew the pattern of your breaths. He could also tell that you longed for his hugs—not just simple tender hugs, but the kind that squeezed you tightly, conveying the depth of your love. But every time you had reached out, he had pulled away, a look of agony in his eyes.

He couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down with you. He knew better than anyone what his strength could do, the damage it could cause… A small mishap and he could hurt you, and the mere thought of that broke his heart.

“James,” you said softly, your voice like a gentle breeze, “you don’t have to be afraid. I know you can’t always control your strength, but I trust you, and I trust your love for me.”

He turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes tormented. “Sweetheart, you don’t understand. You don’t understand how serious this is.”

You knelt in front of him, you hands reaching out to cup his face. “Baby, love isn’t about holding back. It’s about trusting each other, even when things are tough. I’d rather take the risk with you than live without your touch.”

“You feel my touch,” he said, his flesh hand slowly caressing your face.

“Yes. You are so very gentle with me.” You smiled and held his metal one. “I’m grateful but there are times when I want you to let go of your restrains and truly feel our love.”

He kissed your hair and closed his eyes. “I cannot let go of my restrains.”

Smiling gently, you rose to straddle his hips, your hands looping around his shoulders. “Not even a tiny little bit? Please? For me?”

He tensed but carefully embraced you, his hands encompassing your waist. “You are a little menace.”

“And don’t you love that?”

He chuckled. “I do love that. I love everything about you.”

“If you love me that much, then hold me tighter, Sergeant.”

“Like this?” His hands moved to cup your ass, squeezing the soft mounds and squeezing you against his hard body.

You hummed pleasantly. “More.”

With a low growl, he embraced your frame with his strong hands and squeezed just a little tighter. His face pained but when he watched you smile and writhe pleasantly on top of him, he relaxed and maintained his grip on you. You leaned down and brushed your lips together in a deep and wet caress. He responded immediately and coaxed your mouth open with a gentle nudge of his tongue, deepening the kiss.

“More,” you whispered against his mouth, your breaths mingling.

“No… sweets, I’m afraid—”

You framed his face, eyes locking onto his. "James Bucky Barnes," you whispered, your voice soothing yet decisive, "you could never hurt me. Your strength is a part of who you are, but it doesn't define our love.” You smiled, your thumb brushing against his unshaven cheek. "With me, you can always let go. I trust you completely."

“How can you be mine?” His breath ghosted over your lips. “How can this perfect softness be mine?”

“The same way you’re mine. You are mine, Barnes.” You traced his hard chest with your fingers. “This perfect man is mine. All mine.”

He looked at you with misty blue eyes. “You’ve quite undone me, sweets.”

“Make love to me,” you whispered, your mouth trailing a path of warmth along his jawline, stopping just shy of his lips. “Not slow and tender. But hard and emotional. I want to feel you. Every part of you.”

You sensed his apprehension at your words, the lingering doubts. But you crashed them with the loving press of your lips against his. With a trembling sigh, he succumbed, rolling you over, his big frame hovering above you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed you down on the mattress.

You keened and he made love to you, holding you strongly, more tightly that he had ever done. It was a start. It was the beginning of your love’s resilience and eagerness to overcome any obstacle together. You found solace in each other's warmth, Bucky’s fear disappearing as he realized that your love was a force more potent than any serum or bionic arm and that he could hold you as close and as tightly as he desired, without ever causing you harm.

[wileys-russo]

Babe I just saw this TikTok and if you felt up for it and have nothing else to do maybe you can make a blurb about R or maybe a Player pranking their girlfriend by hiding in the jacket on the door or something lmao.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeu9tCRE/

decided to go for ms Misa with this, a clown jump scare II m.rodriguez

this was it, you were finally going to get your revenge.

months, no years, of being the but of the joke, the victim of the countless pranks and the heart attacks from all the jump scares. all of your pathetic attempts to even the score and you were finally about to get a notch in your belt.

no more would you get the infuriating mock pout of sympathy and the pitiful kiss to your cheek or ruffle of your hair with the 'nice try amor, maybe next time.' as if you were just an amusing little source of entertainment.

you'd tried, no begged, for them to stop. though it seemed the more you did so or tried to get even it spurred the clowns on even further to mess with you.

you thought that when one of them had finally grown into her ears and you realised she was actually quite sweet and cute, you might have the protection one expects comes with a girlfriend as sometimes hot headed and passionate as misa.

but no, if anything once the two of you were officially together it only seemed even more of a green light for not just her but the rest of her little circus to continually mess with you.

you got a brief reprise when playing at club level together for real madrid, misa had less of her little playmates around then to spur her on and help with her antics.

but it was national camps where they really thrived, and you suffered at their hands.

it had gotten to the point you knew they kept score, noting down in a little blue book how many times each of them could scare you during camp, leaving you horribly on edge and double checking every corner and every room you walked into.

your other much more mature and level headed teammates took pity on you and attempted to provide aid, warning you ahead of time as best they could when they heard wind of potential set ups which you were immensely grateful for.

you'd originally had no plans of retaliation, instead taking on board irene's advice to just ignore them and as best you could give them no reaction to feed off of knowing that often spurred them on more than anything else.

mapi and leila used to be two of the worst, constantly jumping out from corners or hiding under your bed after swiping your key card with nimble fingers, relentlessly competitive with one another for who could gain more points for scaring you each camp.

then came jenni and virginia, upping things by adding in not only the jump scares but also ridiculously juvenile pranks that had a scowl near permanently etched into your brow the entire camp as you started to make it a routine to be constantly checking over your shoulder.

then it was misa and patri, patri who very easily picked up on your crush on the goalkeeper and her most trusted accomplice and unbeknownst to you tried her very best to use these little jump scares and pranks to force misa to recognize her own unrequited crush on you.

needless to say, it worked. but that did not mean you were no longer fair game.

and so after a morning filled with people jumping out at you from corners and cupboards and your own girlfriend even going as far as to hide herself under one of the canteen tables and grab your ankle when you least expected it causing you to scream and spill half your lunch down the front of you.

her laughter stopped the moment she pulled herself out from the table and saw the near murderous look on your face and the training top now soaked with a delightful mix of recovery shake and tandori chicken.

"no, stay. you leave the poor niña alone to go and change before gym!" alexia grabbed the back of your girlfriends top and yanked her down in her seat as you hurried out of the canteen, ona and aitana quickly following after you.

"its only a joke ale, relajarse." jenni chuckled, not at all phased by the witherly dry look thrown at her by the younger girl who kept a firm hold on the goalkeepers top who stared at the door which you'd exited after like a kicked puppy.

"to you. there are lines, and lunch should not be a time where she needs to fear you idiotas!" alexia rolled her eyes and let go of misa who sank into her chair with a huff, pushing her lunch tray away from her with a scowl.

assuring ona and tana that you were fine and sending them back down to lunch you quickly stripped and changed, wishing you had time for a shower but heading down to the gym knowing lunch was likely already finished.

as soon as you appeared your girlfriend was right by your side attempting to apologize and pull you into a hug. "its okay amor." you promised caressing her cheek as her face lit up. "really?" she asked eagerly.

"no! aléjate de mí." you quipped sharply, your elbow ramming into her stomach as she doubled over with a groan and a grunt and jenni nearly fell backwards off the weights bench clutching her stomach with laughter.

"cariño por favor!" misa called after you still with a groan as you flipped her off and paired up with ona who couldn't keep the grin off her face, alexia slapping your back proudly as she passed to go pair up with irene.

clearly sensing your distaste and simmering anger misa kept her distance though you could still feel her pouty expression and longing puppy dog eyes following after your every move despite that.

during a quick water break you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around with a scowl expecting it to be your girlfriend but your face immediately softened seeing vicky stood there instead.

"off your phone during gym!" you laughed as she opened up tiktok and brushed you off with a shake of your head. "not for me, for you. look!" she held up her phone and you, and ona whose head popped up beside yours, watched a quick video.

"its cute." you chuckled, a little unsure why she was so intent on showing you as both vicky and ona gave you a strange look. "what?" you frowned back at them cluelessly.

"do it to misa, estúpido!" vicky rolled her eyes as ona hummed her agreement and you scoffed. "that? she will just laugh at me!" you protested as both girls disagreed. "maybe. but its also your best bet at scaring her back for once amiga, anything more...complicated, you could not pull off." ona chuckled honestly as vicky nodded eagerly.

"sí! so what have you got to lose?"

~

so now this was it, you were finally going to get your revenge.

was it the grand super slam get backs of all get backs you wished you could pull on not only misa but also all of the girls who found endless amusement in picking on your easily frightened nature? no.

but it was still a notch in your belt and you'd take it.

you hurried off the very moment the session was called to a close, gone in a flash so fast your girlfriend barely saw the back of your head before she blinked and you'd dissapeared.

you knew she needed to sit with the physio for awhile to have her shoulder checked after taking an awkward fall this morning which gave you a small window of time to get ready.

now you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel somewhat ridiculous, your body curled up into itself as you heard her key click open the front door to her hotel room, likely having knocked on yours to find nobody answered.

you both had spare keys to one anothers rooms, but with light fingers you'd swiped yours from misa's bag so she couldn't access your room, and it was near certain she still thought you were mad at her and had refused to open your door for her.

which gratefully meant she would not be expecting you in her room let alone curled up in her jacket on the back of the wardrobe door.

you heard her huff and puff as she made her way about the room, and waited until you heard the squeak of her throwing herself down on her bed with a deep sigh.

you'd thought ahead and left your phone in your room, hearing her groan and mumbled to herself as she tried to call and text you but they went unread and unanswered.

if there was one thing about your girlfriend you knew to be true it was that she often got so caught up in her own head, needing a moment of silence to reflect and process what was going on which you knew to give her space for after hard losses, allowing her to come to you once she was ready.

so like now you heard the room go quiet, misa caught up in her own head and unknown to her, right where you needed her.

you counted to three and gently dropped down, your girlfriend too busy thinking to see your legs ever so carefully hit the floor as you silently slipped out of her jacket and turned, misa still not noticing you.

"hola amor!" you yelled as you leapt at her, launching onto the bed as the girl let out a blood curdling scream and fell right off of it landing on her ass as you collapsed into the mattress laughing.

"finally! finally i got you! i scared you!" you cheered happily bouncing up and down on the bed as the goalkeeper scowled up at you and crossed her arms.

"you got me once. grow up!" you squealed as she stood and pushed at your shoulder mid bounce almost sending you toppling off the bed before you caught yourself.

"yeah i did, and thats a win for me mi vida. put that in your stupid little blue book!" you teased with a grin so wide it almost split your face in half as the girl huffed and sat down on the bed, refusing to meet your eyes and glaring at the wall.

"mis, mi amor you are not allowed to be so pouty and moody after you have spent years terrorising me and i got you back once!" you warned, standing up and staring firmly down at her with your arms crossed.

"i do not terrorise you!" misa frowned as your eyebrows raised questioningly. "okay, maybe i could be a little nicer." the girl grumbled as you scoffed and your eyebrows raised even higher.

"vale vale! ven aquí sexy." the goalkeeper balled your shirt in her fists and tugged you down and on top of her, pout still lightly playing on her lips as she leaned up to press them to yours but you pulled away, sitting up as your legs straddled her hips.

"i'm not kissing you, not till you apologize for lunch which you seem to have forgotten about." you reminded as the girl winced and smiled sheepishly, hands tracing circles on your bare thighs.

"lo siento mucho, mucho, mucho. mi niña muy bonita!" misa apologised sincerely, sitting up herself and kissing all over your face as she repeated the words over and over.

"vale! but promise me, no more messing with me while we eat? that means lunch, breakfast, dinner, all of it." you warned sternly as the girl nodded and mumbled a promise against your lips as you finally let her kiss you properly for a moment.

pulling away you pushed at her chest as she laid back down and you curled into her, exhaling as you relaxed to the sound of her heartbeat, strong hands curved around your back holding you safely in her arms.

"...that still leaves me many many hours of the day to scare you anyway cariño."

[mrpenguinpants]

Ttorschlusspanik [ Commissioned ]

[ Hcs for Dottore where the reader is very sleepy/sleep-deprived and is constantly falling asleep in battle, on dates, or maybe during research and experiments! ]

Word Count: 4k

Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Semi Part 1: Low Battery Warning [Masterlist]

Thank you so much for commissioning me! You’re so sweet, and I truly appreciate the tip, but I can’t accept this level of generosity. Please let me know if I went under the word count. Also, thank you for your patience—I got really sick this week and am still recovering.

Torshlosspanik. noun. 1. A desperate feeling that something desired is fading, missing, or being taken away. 2. A feeling of frustration when something one has is departing.

A slumbering figure, a nearly empty desk, and foreboding fabric are the greeting signs to the infamous lab. It’s ironic, really. The concept that the Doctor’s domain comes with a “receptionist” setup stationed in front of imposing steel doors, giving the illusion that this place is as normal—and as morally sound—as any other doctor’s office. At best, it’s laughable to think anyone would believe this place accepts patients willingly, let alone frequently enough to require check-ins. Yet, a shabby but sturdy wooden desk stands innocently in the corner of the entrance, its chipping edges lined with plastic chrysanthemums and white lilies. The artificial flowers are faded, their colors dull from years of neglect, as if mocking the very notion of hospitality. Behind the desk sits an equally worn-down office chair, large enough for someone to curl up in. Its fabric is stained and frayed from years of misuse, the cushion lumpy and barely holding its shape but still useable. All for a receptionist, if you can call them that, who spends more time asleep than actually working as an employee in this most unlikely place. Legs curled up on the seat, arms crisscrossed over the knees in a fetal position. A chin tucked towards the chest, hidden from the view of passersby. Back facing toward prying eyes, leaving only the pronounced slouch of their spine visible, an angle practically begging to develop scoliosis. But the most harrowing detail isn’t the position. It’s the unmistakable black-and-white fur coat draped over them like a blanket, the fabric’s presence carrying an air of authority and fear. A coat only gifted to the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. The desk itself is of no help either. There’s no clipboard, no pens, no paper-nothing that could even remotely resemble the tools of an actual receptionist. It’s an empty stage prop, barely held together by the weight of its own absurdity. And yet, for all its flaws, it stands as the gateway to a place no one in their right mind would willingly step into.

No one dares attempt to wake you. Successfully doing so is practically a death sentence, especially if you go whining to Dottore about the unprompted “alarm clock.” He has a reputation for ensuring the offender never makes a sound again. The only ones bold enough to try and emerge unscathed are his fellow Harbingers, though even they tread lightly when it comes to disturbing your slumber. It’s both impressive and deeply concerning how much of a deep sleeper you are. The bustling footsteps of agents pacing outside the lab, their sharp voices discussing assignments, don’t stir you. The deafening clangs of machinery, coupled with the revolting squelches of severed monster parts being dissected, fail to trigger even a flicker of awareness. Not even Tartaglia’s incessant yammering, loud enough to make glass shudder, elicits so much as an irritated swat from you. Instead, you remain in a state of unyielding sleep, utterly detached from the chaos around you. Your peculiar habit has become such a fixture in the lab that the staff barely remember you exist. You sit perched at their entrance and exit, as still and silent as a gargoyle guarding a forgotten ruin. To them, you are little more than part of the backdrop. A slumbering figure whose presence is a curious mix of ominous and benign.

While it's obvious that the answer to rousing you is to find Dottore himself, or one of his segments if he isn’t around, the interesting part is how you wake up. You're not immune to the initial dizziness that comes with awakening. When you finally open your eyes, blinking the sleep away from your eyelashes, you’re always disoriented. Your eyes feel glazed over, as though you’ve gone blind from keeping them closed too long. Yet, there’s always a common theme: you always reach out toward the nearest blue object. Whether it's an odd trinket or a test tube of acidic liquid, your hand automatically tries to grab it and pull it close to you. It’s part of the reason your desk is stationed outside the lab, away from anything potentially dangerous hidden behind heavy steel doors. Artificial blue has been on the rise lately. Luckily, in nature, blue is very rare. Less than one in ten plants has blue flowers, and even fewer animals are blue. Unfortunately, the biggest nuisance has blue eyes—dead as they are. Tartaglia may not like the doctor, but he does like you. Maybe it’s because your sleep demeanor can be categorized as cute, or maybe you remind him of the simple life in an organization that’s so uptight. Regardless, that little fox has been clawing at the wooden legs yapping for attention. It's only made worse you don't bother to dissuade him, only indulging in his playful antics. It's led to many, many, lectures from one particular segment.

It's fascinating watching how each segment interacts with your sleepy demeanor. While each segment has varying features and appearances, under the same clothes and mask, they would be indistinguishable if they stood still and never spoke. The only true way to discern them is through their actions and mental processes. Hence, it's easy to tell who is who by the way they go about holding you.

Omega is by far the least attentive or affectionate toward you. Perhaps it’s because he’s the most selfish of them all. There’s still an ongoing debate over whether his dislike for you stems from the fact that you stand in the way of fulfilling his desires or if his ambitions extend beyond simply overtaking the divine gaze. Or perhaps the divine gaze isn't actually his goal in the first place. Either way, it’s two sides of the same coin. When it’s Omega’s turn to fetch you, he does so as if you were any other patient. Completely beneath him. One arm rests behind his back, while the other holds a piece of paper clenched tightly in his hand. His mouth is set in a firm line as he gazes down at your slumped form. Although the air around him is calm and silent, it doesn’t take a genius to know that if he could get away with it, he’d drag you through the halls by your hair. Alas, that kind of act would get him permanently disassembled, so he settles for unceremoniously flipping you upright. The arm resting on the small of his back is removed and curls under your stomach. With one swift motion, you’re treated like one of Signora’s shopping bags. The sight of a limp body folded in half under an arm that surely digs into the stomach is the best way to know if it’s the Omega segment or not.

Beta, on the other hand. Beta. That maniacal and neurotic freak adores you but couldn’t care less about you. His research typically focuses on fusing humans with machinery to create “better versions” of themselves, and he fully believes in that philosophy. You would look so much better if he were allowed to be your sole care provider. If your drowsiness were caused by a medical condition like heart disease, asthma, pain, or a nerve condition, he could simply replace them, and you’d be perfect. If it were a mental issue, well, he’d love you no matter how unresponsive you might be. It wouldn’t be much different from you being asleep anyway. When it’s Beta’s turn to fetch you, he does so with a waltz. He walks purposefully toward your desk. Loud and firm, his hands fisted at his sides with unrestrained glee, swinging in time with each step. Even with a mask that obscures most of his face, it’s clear to see the overexcited grin stretching across his lips. It’s almost like there’s static buzzing in time with his artificial heart, fuzzy yet electrically sharp. There’s no fanfare, as soon as he’s within arm’s reach, he grabs the nearest piece of skin and hauls you out of the chair. By some miracle, you’re always still asleep from the rough handling, which is more than enough for Beta to wrap his other arm around your waist. Your chests press together, and he swings your body to and fro in his mad dance. The sight of a limp body dragged into a dancing plague that’s surely pulling your stiff joints out of place is the best way to know if it’s Beta or not. Beta has been recently banned from coming within a six-foot radius around you. 

The original Dottore, Zandik, is a unique case. All of the segments originated from him but at different points in time. However, they are still parts of his thoughts and mannerisms. There really is no order in which the segments are ranked, as they can’t compete with each other. What’s more pointless than trying to beat yourself? You’ll still lose in the end. Zandik is a strange mix of every segment yet none at all. When he wants to see you, he does so slowly, with all the time in the world. His methodical steps echo lightly on the concrete floors of the lab, his arms still at his sides yet loose enough that the slightest wind could blow them away. It’s as eerie as it is tranquil. Everything about the original whispers of restrained patience—that when he arrives at the front of your desk, he simply waits. Usually, it takes you hours or even days to wake up on your own, but when it’s Zandik standing at the edge of your daydream, your eyes slide open. Small ripples in the pond. You’re still lethargic, blindly feeling your way back into your body as your eyes ricochet off the walls until they land on blue. A weighted hand reaches out to grab that ashy blue, and another hand meets your fingertips.

It would be cute if it were anyone else. The sight of a man with curly light blue hair, carrying a bundled-up figure dressed in a white coat with a fluffy black collar, legs dangling from either side of his waist while his hands rest on the lump’s presumed back and thighs. It would be so cute indeed, if it were anyone else but Zandik. But for him, it only looks lonely, despite the two of you pressed together.

The moments when you're awake only happen on two occasions: either you just happened to wake up at that time, or it’s check-up day. What kind of doctor would Dottore be if he didn’t conduct physicals for his only patient who manages to live long enough each year? The check-ups happen twice a week, always two days apart. Never past two days of separation. Ever. Your exact relationship dynamic with Dottore remains as obscure as ever as to why he cares so much. Whether you’re old friends who knew each other before Dottore set foot in Snezhnaya or even when Dottore was called a different name. Or maybe a dead lover resurrected as a zombie in the pursuit of selfish greed and glorious progress; both are possible options. The zombie theory at least explains why you’re constantly drowsy. The staff have never seen you eat anything before, and with the abundance of... zombie food, it's not outlandish as much as it is disgusting. The old friend theory would explain why you can stomach being around someone who can fly off the handle at any moment. The most willing yet unwilling patient. No matter how often Dottore has to wrestle you upright, only for you to slump back asleep the next second, he never loses his temper. If he has to strap you into a straitjacket and hang you from the goddamn ceiling to keep you sitting with a straight back, he will. But by no means will he get anything more than slightly miffed. If he has to force-feed you your medicine because you’re too loopy to remember how to swallow, he’ll shove his fingers into the back of your throat with nothing but a blank smile. The only good thing about your sleep-deprived state is that you’re probably so out of it that you can’t feel discomfort. It saves on using the limited supply of anesthesia the lab carries.

Dottore, for lack of a better word, is displeased with your constant need for sleep. He is deeply frustrated with each check-in and the stagnation of your results. For him, bad results are no different from good ones—they’re still a means of moving forward. Something that will tell him which direction to take rather than wandering around aimlessly in the dark. But in your case, there are no significant changes, as if everything he’s done has been for nothing. He could have closed his eyes and spun a wheel for the same results. The day before your check-in is always the calm before the storm because the staff knows that when the next day comes, they’d better keep their heads down or risk losing them. No one is quite sure if your sleepiness stems from mutated genetics or if it’s a side effect of being around Dottore for too long. Stir-craziness and breakdowns are common in the lab, whether among "patients" or "employees." Everyone eventually goes mad, cooped up within the same cell-shaded walls and working under possibly the worst boss imaginable. Add to that the fact that the Fatui don’t believe in “mental health” days, and with no coping mechanisms in sight, it’s unfair to expect anyone to function effectively. Most people eventually devolve into screaming or manic episodes. Perhaps your escape is more literal. A peaceful retreat from reality through sleep. You’re not even sure why you’re constantly sleep-deprived, especially when you spend more time slumbering than awake. At first, you thought you might be narcoleptic or taking the wrong pills; a diagnosis from scratch must take a long time, right? That was until Dottore bluntly called you an idiot. He told you it’s a bad habit to self-diagnose every minor inconvenience. You should let him do all the thinking and simply listen to him. And truthfully, with the haze clouding your mind, it’s too difficult to think clearly anyway. So, you nod and do as you’re told. It’s easier that way.

It doesn’t happen often, but it occurs more than it should, considering who Dottore is and the reputation he holds. If you wish to cross him, you’d better make it count—because it’ll be your last. He’s in the middle of a meeting with Pantalone, arguing over the lab’s finances when a frantic knock interrupts. Apparently, there’s been a scuffle at the entrance of the lab. To Pantalone's knowledge, there aren't any guards or any agents stationed at the doors except for that sleepy receptionist. Perhaps the doctor's staff finally had enough and decided to take their anger on someone who couldn't fight back? Pantalone's not a good enough person to not find amusement in the situation, infinitely curious as to what Dottore's reaction will be to all of this. Whatever the banker decided to gamble on, his expression doesn't twitch as he follows behind his fellow Harbinger as they walk leisurely through the halls, as if the world has come to a standstill. It’s almost amusing that when your life is potentially on the line, he suddenly decides to take a midday stroll. The only indication of his amusement is the slight shake in his shoulders, hinting at a silent laugh. Dottore punches in the lock code and throws open the steel doors before the automatic switch can activate, slipping through as soon as the gap is wide enough. He stops at the shabby wooden desk that’s now gained a few new dents.

This time, you’re curled up on top of the table, your office chair thrown across the room. Broken. It’s no matter, he’s been meaning to replace it anyway. The chair is just another expense to add to his name. He collects you into his arms effortlessly, and you instinctively sink into the familiar hold. A quick scan from head to toe confirms that you’re unharmed, save for a few strands of hair out of place. Behind him, Pantalone lets out a noise of approval as he surveys the scene. In the center of the room stands a robot with a striking design. A star-shaped frame with six triangular segments forms a perfect symmetry. Glowing cyan cores illuminate the metallic structure, positioned at its center and edges. The intricate details combine sharp, crystalline elements with mechanical precision, radiating an aura of both elegance and menace. As expected of the Doctor. Pantalone can’t help but wonder where this machine was hiding when Signora ventured to Inazuma. Perhaps if it had been deployed then, she might have returned in one piece.

Although Dottore no longer needs to sleep to survive, there are times when, as he passes by your sleeping form, he’ll pause. He stands still, staring for what feels like an absurd amount of time, meticulously detailing and recording every breath you take within a single minute. It’s always 17. Sleep occupies about one-third of a person’s life, a significant portion of time that, in Dottore's mind, could be devoted to something useful. Something productive, instead of wasting it frolicking in dreams that neither matter nor will change anything. Yet, even he can’t deny that, occasionally, a break from reality can serve as a fragile bandage over a wound that refuses to heal. A fleeting comfort in an otherwise relentless existence.  

It’s as awkward as it is unnatural. Despite his title as "The Doctor", his hands weren’t designed for gentle touches of flesh and bone. Yet he tries. His fingers twitch involuntarily as he tilts your body to the side, just enough for him to slide in beside you. Carefully, he rests your body against his shoulder. He expects you to jolt awake, his shoulder is bony and hardly a suitable place to rest your head, even when compared to the flaky cushion of the office chair you’ve somehow grown fond of. But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. You simply lay there, your head nestled against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. No protests, no shifting away, just stillness. The transfer of heat begins, as described by the laws of thermodynamics. Hotter, faster-moving molecules collide with cooler, slower ones, transferring energy in a quiet exchange. No fireworks, no blaring alarms, just the science of touch, as mundane and profound as ever. Zandik dares to lower his chin, letting it rest lightly against your head. His mask doesn’t obscure the quiet moment, though he can feel the unnatural curve of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly. Down here, in the deepest layers of the lab, not even the howling winds of Tsaritsa’s snowstorm can reach. It’s eerily quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of your breathing. For a moment, he wonders what it would be like if you woke up now. If your half-lidded eyes would squint at him in confusion, or if you’d simply close them again, surrendering to the haze of sleep. But you don’t stir. Instead, he lets himself linger, suspended between an unusual warmth and the cold detachment of his own thoughts

"Breaks" are not something you can indulge in down in the labs. The closest the staff ever got was when one of the Harbingers passed away, and even then, it lasted only half a day before they were right back to work. Still, if you ask nicely, Dottore will nod toward an empty seat, silently giving you permission to make yourself comfortable. You take the opportunity to describe the dreams you’ve had while Dottore tinkers away in the background. You talk about a train whose tracks stretch far into the stars, far beyond the snow-obscured sky you glimpse through the scarce, frosted windows scattered about the lab. Sometimes, you dream of a whimsical city filled with cute shops and tiny bunny-like robots waddling through fissures in space. You’re certain he isn’t really paying attention, his hands busy with instruments, and his focus locked on his latest project. Sometimes, you suspect he forgets you’re even in the room despite your rambling. A small part of you wants to stamp your feet and pout like a child. After all, you’re only awake for a few fleeting hours each week, and even then, all he can think about is his experiments. His endless, obsessive tinkering. The man’s only "hobby" is experimentation, and you wonder if he’s even capable of entertaining anything else. At least Omega and Beta would give you some attention. Omega might tell you to be quiet with that dismissive tone of his, while Beta would enthusiastically scribble down every word you say, his excitement unnerving yet oddly gratifying. Still… your gaze drifts toward Zandik’s back as he works, the muscles beneath his coat shifting subtly with each precise movement. You pull your knees up against your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you rest your cheek against your folded arms. For a moment, you simply watch him in silence, the quiet hum of the lab filling the space between you. Eventually, your eyes grow heavy, and you let them slip shut. A faint smile tugs at your lips as you wonder where your dreams will take you this time. You wonder if Zandik would come with you.

On the rare occasion that Dottore chooses to sleep of his own will, most likely due to substances that induce drowsiness and force his body into a state of rest, it’s always a remarkably uneventful night. He doesn’t dream anymore, nor does he wish to. Dreams, like the past, serve no purpose to him now. On certain days, if he concentrates hard enough, he can faintly discern whispers from the other segments he's created. However, they are nothing more than distractions, a cacophony that only aggravates his already meticulous mind. When he wakes, it’s as though he hasn’t truly slept at all. His eyelids parted smoothly, his pupils sharp and alert as if no time had passed. Yet there is an unusual sensation, warmth. Dottore does not run warm, and the lab, built for functionality rather than comfort, certainly doesn’t harbor it either. He turns his head, curiosity fleeting, and finds you huddled against his side. Your arms are wrapped around his waist in a loose embrace, and your face is pressed against his chest, seeking solace in his stillness. The white coat with its black feathered collar, the one you wear more often than he does, is draped across your body, serving as a makeshift blanket. His hands remain clasped on his stomach, and he realizes with mild irritation that he can’t move without risking the possibility of waking you. For a moment, he lingers. The seconds on, and his mind races ahead to the tasks awaiting him. The pursuit of progress waits for no one, not even himself. Every moment spent lying in this bed feels like a year’s worth of lost discovery. 

With calculated precision, he shifts. His movements are methodical, almost robotic, as he carefully bundles you in the coat, ensuring the hood doesn’t cover your face and obstruct your breathing. In a single fluid motion, he lifts you into his arms as he rises from the bed. He spares a brief glance at your sleeping form, red eyes devoid of emotion. Your breathing is steady at 17 breaths per minute—a rhythm he has memorized and measured countless times before. Still as serene as ever. But then, for just the faintest of moments, his gaze softens, almost imperceptibly, before he turns his attention back to the work that never ceases to call for him. What a peaceful way to escape the world, the thought as cold and clinical as his expression.

---

Hi, thank you for reading! I'll reblog this with further writer notes but I wanted to include the research bits in order of appearance. I can't guarantee the full accuracy but I hope I didn't get anything wrong.

Chrysanthemum & Lily

In many Asian cultures, especially in China and Japan, chrysanthemums are symbolic of death and mourning. In China, the flower is closely linked to the Day of the Dead, and in Japan, it is used in funeral rites. While in some contexts chrysanthemums can symbolize longevity or fidelity, their association with death makes them unlucky in certain circumstances, especially when given as gifts or during celebrations.

Lilies, especially white lilies, are often associated with death and mourning, particularly in Christian symbolism, where they are linked to funerals and burials. While lilies also symbolize purity and rebirth in other contexts, their frequent appearance in funeral arrangements.

Head-Down Position

The sleep position reader takes is a parody of the Head-Down position of babies in their third trimester. The head-down position (cephalic presentation) is the most common and ideal position for birth, where the baby’s head is facing downward, towards the birth canal. This allows the baby to navigate the birth process more easily.

Dancing Plague

Also called the Dancing Mania, this refers to a series of events in the 16th century where groups of people, primarily in Europe, suddenly and uncontrollably began dancing for extended periods, sometimes for days or weeks, often to the point of exhaustion, injury, or even death. The most infamous and well-documented outbreak of the Dancing Plague occurred in 1518 in Strasbourg, then part of the Holy Roman Empire (modern-day France).

Algorithm of Semi-Intransient Matrix of Overseer Network

The robot Pantalone sees is the early concept art for ^ but also known as the "Tomb Guard of the Desert King.".

17

The number 17 is considered unlucky in Italy because of its association with the Latin word for 17, which is "XVII". Rearranging these Roman numerals gives the word "VIXI", which means "I have lived" or "I am dead" in Latin. This gives the number an ominous connotation, as it can be seen as a symbol of death or misfortune.

Honkai Star Rail & Zenless Zone Zero

Yes, reader was describing these two games as their dreams lol.

[retroaria]

kiyora jin: boyfriend headcanons

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | reblogs are appreciated! | enjoy !! - aria :3

a.n - I actually am in love with kiyora jin (potential self ship ngl), enjoy this dump of kiyora brain rot. no explicit warnings.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who sees this all as one big challenge. how long can he tease and flirt with you before one of you eventually caves. he loves the exhilaration of the chase, loves the way it keeps him on his toes and makes his heart flutter. he relishes in the butterflies that swarm around his stomach when he’s with you, and can’t help but be amused by his own nervous flirtatious ramblings.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who takes in your personality and interests like a god damn sponge. he analyzes you, but he sees it as a bit of a game, like how excited can he get you while sparking up a conversation about your interests. he also does a quick fact check on you to ensure you can find some sort of interest in the stuff he likes as well. would take you some speakeasy underground dance studio so you can cheer him on lol.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who doesn’t say his feelings outright but definitely isn’t afraid to show you how he feels in other ways. specifically physical touch, quality time, and more-than casual flirting. he’d wrap his arm around you, grad your hand to drag you places, let you take up his free time outside of practice, give you sweet compliments at every chance he gets.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who eventually finds himself hanging over the edge of insanity every time he thinks about how he can’t call you his. the confession would be swift and almost nonchalant. he’s proud of his feelings for you and doesn’t feel the need to act shy about it once he’s ready. when you say yes he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face which he quickly tries to scrunch up so he isn’t cheesing at you like a dork.

boyfriend!kiyora who has an endless list of hidden gems and secluded spots that he takes you to regularly, places where you can both be alone and enjoy each others presence. he loves any date that involves food, likes going to food festivals and trying all the different food stands. definitely tries to feed you stuff and doesn’t see the problem if you tell him it might look a little weird to other people lol. “Whatever just try it, open up~” he’d scoff at you playfully.

boyfriend!kiyora who loves taking candid pictures of you! he has two separate albums in his phone, one for you looking stupid and one for you looking gorgeous. sometimes his cover is blown by the camera shutter sound from his phone and he has to quickly shove it back in his pocket, looking around like he very obviously was doing something sneaky.

boyfriend!kiyora who dedicates everything to you. if he scores a goal during a game, he looks over to you in the crowed, putting his hand up and pointing at you with a smile as he runs back into position. he makes playlists for you, (attempts to) make you food and desserts.

boyfriend!kiyora who makes silly little stick figure drawings of you two on restaurant napkins when you go out to eat. sometimes he leaves you little notes that he wrote on the back of random pieces of paper he came across, he’s a crafty boy lol.

boyfriend!kiyora who gets jealous rather easily but doesn’t outwardly act possessive about it. he tends to keep those feelings to himself, but if some other guy is really all over you he’d just thrust himself into the situation as aggressively as possible until they get the hint that you’re taken. overall, he trusts you so at the end of the day he knows he has no need to worry!

boyfriend!kiyora who secretly loves being the little spoon. having your arms around him makes him feel so special it warms his heart in a way he can’t describe. he lays his head down on your chest or in your lap whenever you guys are on the couch or in bed together. he loves holding you too but he'll take any chance he can get to be engulfed in your embrace.

divider credz: @cafekitsune

[fiona-fififi]

You're not saying you're in love with me (but you're going to)

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: 9-1-1

Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Summary: Eddie's seeking joy, and he just wants to suck dick about it. Buck might be having a crisis. 8x06 extended scene.

Notes: First buddie smut fic for me. So, uh. I don't know. Enjoy! And mind the tags. Also, please let me know if I forgot any, as I am not accustomed to writing or tagging smut.

Title from Taylor Swift's “Slut!” because it felt appropriate in all the ways.

8x06 Extended Scene, PWP, Getting Together, First Time, Emotional Sex, Playful Sex, Couch Sex, Smut, First Time Blowjobs, Hand Jobs, Come Swallowing, Unsafe Sex, Mentioned Tommy Kinard (though he's really not very important to this beyond being the reason Buck is at Eddie's house)

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Ao3 Link

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“We broke up,” Buck announces, near out of the blue, Eddie's eyes on him too much to bear after a bit. He feels the flat disinterest in his own voice; the way he's maybe jumped too far too fast into acceptance.

Maybe it really was for the best that Tommy had walked out.

“Ah, man,” Eddie says, and it's sincere, Buck knows it is, but there's a hint of something else there that Buck's not sure about—an undertone of happiness that could maybe just be the remnants of whatever he'd walked in on when he'd shown up at Eddie's door or could maybe be a reaction to something else Buck's not ready to examine. 

Buck grunts out an acknowledgment of Eddie's words. His body stiffens a little. At the possibility Eddie will push him to talk about it, Buck's mind insists. He keeps his eyes trained forward, too afraid to look at the man beside him for fear of breaking. How, though, he's not sure.

“I'm sorry, Buck,” Eddie voices, genuine and sincere, and there's something about the way his name lingers on Eddie's lips that has Buck's breath catching. “I know you liked him,” Eddie adds, hand coming down heavy on Buck's thigh.

They haven't moved, though. Not really. So with Eddie leaned back in the cushions and Buck sitting stiff at the edge of the couch, Eddie's palm falls high, so close to the juncture of his thigh that Buck thinks he stops breathing, heart hammering hard in his chest. He expects Eddie to pull away, to sit forward and shift the touch up toward his knee, to clap that spot a couple of times and pretend he hadn't lingered.

But he doesn't.

Instead, his fingers roll, a careful squeeze to the meat of Buck's thigh, dancing there in a lingering massage and shifting just a breath higher, slipping into the dip of his groin.

Buck's breath stutters out, catches with a choked sound, hand gripping too tight around the glass in his palm as he freezes—too afraid to move for fear of breaking the moment, of giving Eddie a reason to draw back and pretend like nothing of substance had happened. Feels his heart hammering in his chest, corner of his gaze caught on the sweet little smirk on Eddie's face that looks some combination of proud and fond, and Buck chokes again, falls back into the cushions behind him in an uncoordinated slouch that has Eddie chuckling aloud, a soft, sweet sound Buck wants to bottle for his own ears only forever.

He blinks hard, eyes focusing on Eddie from the new angle, Eddie's fingers creeping that much closer, and Buck can feel his body reacting—some desperate heat he knows he shouldn't feel licking over every part of his skin, radiating out from that one focal point of Eddie's fingers clasped around his thigh. “Eddie,” he grunts. Intends it to be chastising. Feels the desperation instead.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums in response, and Buck can't tell if it's a question or just an acknowledgment. Can't bring himself to care as Eddie reaches with his free hand to take the near empty bottle from Buck's. Murmurs something about tucking it away before someone gets hurt that Buck doesn't actually hear, not really, as he turns his gaze to the sweet, easy joy that crinkles Eddie's eyes and tugs at his lips in the prettiest picture of happiness Buck has ever seen. 

It's infectious, and suddenly Buck can't quite feel anything other than want. The electric of Eddie's touch leaving him a squirming mess in seconds.

And Buck knows they should talk about it. Thinks, at least, he shouldn't be so eager to give in, considering. But he can't bring himself to care about anything other than the feel of Eddie's fingers burning into his skin.

“God, you're pretty like this,” Eddie breathes, taking in the sight Buck makes against the cushions. And Buck thinks he must make quite the sight—feels wrecked over nothing more than the squeeze of Eddie's fingers and the heat in Eddie's eyes. “Take this off, yeah?” Eddie demands, tugging at the sleeve of Buck's jacket.

Buck obeys. Doesn't even consider denying Eddie as he scrambles forward just enough to dislodge the offending material and drop it over the back of the couch. Eddie's free hand finds its way up under Buck's t-shirt then, making clear his intention to strip Buck down to nothing, even as his other palm remains firmly planted on Buck's thigh. Buck doesn't argue—drags the shirt up over his head and discards it with his jacket, catches Eddie's eye with heat in his own.

“We shouldn't,” Buck breathes, unconvincing, voice catching as he shifts back further into the couch cushions, hips pushing forward as he settles. At the movement, Eddie's fingers brush over the hardness beneath his fly, just a little too firm to pretend it's an accident, and Buck chokes on a whine as his eyes fall closed.

Eddie shifts then—away, away, away—Buck can feel it in the way the couch moves beside him, even as the burning imprint of Eddie's palm remains, and Buck can't help the desperate whimper that bubbles from his lips when Eddie's movement turns into a deliberate caress, fingers playing gently over the bulge of Buck's erection in his jeans, and Buck thinks he might die for it. “Please,” Buck gasps, squirming against the cushions beneath him and pressing up into Eddie's touch.

Eddie shushes him quietly, and Buck forces his eyes open to follow the sound, and when he does, they find Eddie there, kneeling between his legs, eyes transfixed on Buck's as he lets his fingers play, hands splaying over the thick muscle of Buck's thigh. “Why shouldn't we?”

“Eddie ” Buck gasps out again. It's not a sob, but it's a near thing.

“Are you upset over it?” Eddie asks, all honest curiosity, fingers stilling just long enough to make Buck squirm for his touch. “Too much to drink to make sound decisions?”

Buck shakes his head, eyes falling closed again. “You know I've only had one.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums in agreement, fingers curling to pop the button of Buck's jeans, “broken up, then?”

Buck gives him his best approximation of a glare at that one, finds those warm brown eyes dancing with mirth, even as Buck can feel the pause—the way he's refusing to allow himself to give into the want until he's sure Buck's with him.

Buck wants to be, so desperately. Thinks maybe he is.

Eddie's mouth tilts into a fond smirk, eyes falling to where his fingers work as he drags down the zipper of Buck's jeans.

And he's working slowly—slowly enough to give Buck time to voice a real protest, but Buck would be lying if he pretended not to want everything Eddie's offering.

Still, there's a stinging behind his eyes and a sharp twinge of fear as Eddie shimmies his pants down his legs. A hint of tension settling over him because he wants, but he also doesn't know what he'd do if this all meant losing Eddie, and he can't help but fear exactly that because everyone always leaves, and why would Eddie be different, really? Why would sex make Eddie stay when it's only ever ended badly before?

Eddie clocks him then, Buck too in his head to notice that Eddie's slowed, settled back between his legs, but is gazing up at him with worried eyes, hands sweeping delicate patterns over the skin of Buck's thighs. Less deliberate now in his worry. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, quiet and delicate, and Buck feels stupid, sitting there stripped nearly bare as Eddie shifts so completely from confident sex kitten to concerned best friend. Buck's eyes swell with tears he tries to blink away. “We can stop,” Eddie promises, a sweet sincerity in his tone that makes Buck's heart clench. “Nothing has to happen here if you don't want it to.”

“I don't—I don't think I want to stop,” Buck chokes out, all damp eyes and worry.

“Then what's wrong, sweetheart?” Eddie's voice is so, so quiet and careful, and something swells in Buck's chest and makes him feel like he might break.

He hesitates, sucks in a shaky breath as his eyes roam Eddie's concerned face, a fragile attempt at avoiding Eddie's own eyes. Then, finally, “sex is like a death knell for me,” Buck admits, all quiet vulnerability  “And I don't want to lose you.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes. And it's a quiet, delicate thing that feels like something Buck's not sure he deserves. Reaches up to stroke soothing fingers along Buck's hairline, over the wetness clinging at the corners of his eyes, along the cut of his cheekbones. “Let me show you what it feels like when someone stays.”

It feels like a promise Eddie intends to keep.

Buck lets out a shaky breath, thighs falling open with the gentlest touch of Eddie's fingers as he moves to massage the sensitive skin there. And having Eddie there, beautiful and bright, taking up the space between Buck's spread thighs, settled comfortably on his knees as he takes in the sight before him, has Buck transfixed.

“Eddie,” Buck murmurs, a quiet desperation coloring his tone. He's not sure, really, what he needs, but he knows what he wants, and he can't bring himself to deny Eddie when he's begging Buck to let him have him. 

Buck reaches out, gentle fingers curling around Eddie's neck, thumb petting delicately over the cut of Eddie's jaw. 

Eddie smiles. Fits his fingers around Buck's wrist, thumb pressing gently to the rapid pulse under his touch, and then shifts until he can press a kiss to that same spot. And it feels monumental—it shouldn't; it's just a small gesture, a sweet connection serving to ground them both, but Buck feels like his heart might burst at just how much adoration he finds in Eddie's touch.

“Can I?” Eddie whispers then, soft and sweet and sharp with want, his eyes wide and pleading as his lashes flutter up toward Buck, and Buck can't help the way his hips hitch just a bit—the slightest movement, but enough to tense Buck's thighs and turn Eddie's eyes dark with want. The nervous hope still there, but edged out by a desperate need Buck's never seen on Eddie before.

He thinks he likes it.

“Yeah,” Buck chokes out, eyes transfixed on Eddie, breath heaving as he tries to calm the molten heat running through his veins at the depth of desire in Eddie's eyes.

Eddie's gaze shifts, then, fingers hooking securely into Buck's boxers, giving a little tap with his thumb to get Buck lifting his hips enough for Eddie to drag them down his strong thighs and past his knees. They fumble a little along the way, Buck's too long legs interfering with the angle when Eddie refuses to move from where he's planted, too eager to get his hands on Buck. In the end, they manage, Eddie taking a poorly coordinated kick to the shoulder and Buck nearly rolling himself off the couch in his haste to shimmy out of the offending garment. Eddie grins and maybe giggles a little at the whole ordeal, and Buck does, too, laughter overtaking as Eddie reaches out to steady himself on Buck's bare knees while he resituates between them.

As their laughter subsides, Eddie's eyes still dance with adoration, and Buck is surprised with it when Eddie leverages himself up with hands firmly planted on Buck's knees, leaning in until Buck gets the picture and ducks down, catching Eddie's lips with his own.

They're not close enough to make it a proper kiss—just a sweet press of their open mouths, Eddie's tongue dipping forward for just the slightest taste before they're separating. But it's the kind of first kiss that leaves Buck trembling all the same. When Eddie pulls back, they're both grinning wide, and Eddie presses one more peck to Buck's lips just as he lets his fingers drag up the length of Buck's cock, delicate and teasing and tentative, and Buck can't help but break the kiss as his head falls back against the couch, desperate whine ripping out of him as Eddie's grin shifts into a joyful smirk, cocky with it as Buck ruts into his touch, seeking a pressure Eddie's not yet ready to give him.

“Shh,” Eddie hushes then, shifting back down to settle between Buck's legs. Buck whimpers again and Eddie shifts his touch to the insides of Buck's thighs, tickling the sensitive skin there with gentle fingers. “I wanna play for a minute, huh? Promise I'll make it worth the wait.”

Buck chokes on something that sounds vaguely like Eddie's name, then. Eyes pressing closed and breath stuttering as he tries to regain some semblance of control. His whole body feels tight, balanced on some precarious peak he's not sure how to navigate, but he wants. Doesn't think he's ever wanted anything as much as Eddie's touch now that he's had a taste of it.

For his part, Eddie's true to his word, fingers playing delicately over Buck's skin, a hint of curiosity beneath the confidence rolling off him. He's fascinated by every move Buck makes, every sounds that falls from his lips. 

Buck reaches out, runs his fingers over Eddie's cheek, just to feel the pull of his smile, and then Eddie's turning into him, pressing a kiss to Buck's fingertips as his hands slip up along the length of Buck's thighs, thumbs caressing the delicate skin closest where Buck needs him most only to skate higher to explore his chest. And Buck hates him a little bit for a moment, whining his displeasure as Eddie's hands splay wide across his ribs, pet over the muscle of his pecs, and then slide back down to skim over his sides, squeezing just enough to pinch when they settle on Buck's hips again, and he pouts—bottom lip protruding in the most obnoxiously childish way—and Eddie can't help but laugh. Can't reach Buck's lips again without more effort than he's willing, so instead, presses a wet kiss to the juncture of Buck's groin, hot breath ghosting over the length of him, and Buck's hips would be hitching up if not for the steady grip Eddie has on him. 

“Fuck,” Buck murmurs, mesmerized by Eddie's playful curiosity. The way he oozes confidence, even though Buck's not sure he's ever done anything like this before, and Buck's own curiosity gets the best of him, finds him forcing his eyes open wide and stuttering out “have you, uh, h-have you ever—” as he reaches to comb careful fingers through the mess of Eddie's hair.

“Never,” Eddie confirms, confidence holding in his tone. A hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

Buck blinks at that, something like awe blooming in his chest as he watches Eddie's eyes. Feels Eddie's fingers slide closer to slip around the length of him,  playing again for just a moment—touch too light to do much more than tease—until he's tightening his grip and stroking slow but firm.

Buck shudders with it, forces a breath through his nose as he tries to breathe through it without losing control. “Are you sure, Eddie?” Buck asks, all quiet concern, even with every nerve ending in his body drawn taught as he pets at Eddie's hair, lets his fingers linger. “I-I don't want to push you into anything you're not ready for.”

Eddie smiles at that—something bright and sweet and genuine, and Buck thinks he might die here beneath Eddie's capable hands. Thinks it might be the only way he wants to go when Eddie presses another kiss to the skin of his abs and then murmurs “think I've been ready for you since that first day.”

Buck's breath catches again. Damp tears suddenly clinging along the edges of his lashes. Buck chokes on a sob, lets his head fall back again just as Eddie dips back, that same sweet smile playing across his lips as he goes back to peppering kisses along the dips of Buck's abs and the skin of his belly, firm grip slowing with the distraction but keeping up enough rhythm to have Buck gasping his praise on a broken breath, a quiet “Eddie” forcing its way out of him as Eddie plays.

“I want to taste,” Eddie murmurs then, like he’s talking to himself, before he turns his eyes up at Buck and asks, all confidence and sweet curiosity, “Can I taste?” before dropping a kiss so close to the head of Buck's cock that his cheek drags gentle over the length of him.

Buck sobs. A desperate, drawn out thing, as he chokes out Eddie's name over and over, broken with awe and adoration. “Eddie. Eddie. E-eddie.”

Eddie grins, big and cocky, and Buck hates the way his dick jumps at that predatory smile. “Gotta tell me, bud,” Eddie tsks, fingers teasing along Buck's length. Circling him to stroke firm and steady. Mouth pressing wet kisses to the cut of Buck's groin.

“Y-yes,” Buck chokes, voice failing enough that he nods hard in affirmation, fingers dragging along Eddie's jaw to draw his attention, “please.”

“Good boy,” Eddie murmurs, almost to himself, and Buck whimpers. Lifts his hips just a touch, and he feels Eddie grin against his skin. 

Eddie shifts, ghosts his lips over Buck's skin, then presses a delicate kiss just below the head of him. Lifts the heft of Buck's cock away from where it rests on his belly, just enough to get his mouth on him properly, and then he's suckling at the head, tongue dipping into the slit, and Buck can feel the way Eddie's saliva pools around him.

Buck whines at the wet heat of it. Fingers scrambling for something to hold, but he doesn’t dare touch. Tries so hard to keep his hips from hitching. Remembers this is Eddie's first time—can feel it in the curious way Eddie's tongue twists around him, in the careful way he tries to dip lower, taking just the smallest bit at a time, keeping his fist wrapped loosely around Buck's length to help guide him.

But it's so fucking good, and Buck sobs with desperation as he tries to keep himself still. 

Feels Eddie smirk around his mouthful, and then pull off, pressing a kiss to Buck's belly with wet lips, before resting his chin there, eyes turning up to gaze at Buck, as he strokes his length, grip firm and sure. 

He makes the prettiest contrast—all sweet and quiet in the delicate look he turns up at Buck and absolutely obscene in the way he fists Buck's cock—and Buck can't help the way he chokes out Eddie's name again in a desperate plea, shaking with the effort to keep his hands to himself for fear of pushing.

Eddie's having none of it, though. Sees the tension in the way Buck's holding himself back. 

“You can touch,” Eddie assures him, confident and gentle—a tone he uses so easily with Buck that it makes his heart stutter sometimes.

“Don't—” Buck tries, breaks off on a gasp as Eddie twists his wrist just right “—don't wanna force you.”

Eddie lets out a breath that sounds like a chuckle, air ghosting over the most sensitive parts of Buck and making him shiver. “You're not forcing anything, sweetheart.”

Buck shakes his head, tries to regain some semblance of rational thought. “Don't wanna get carried away. Want you to be in control.”

“I'm not gonna break,” Eddie insists.

And Buck blinks hard. Tries to form words. Notices the way Eddie slows his strokes and loosens his grip to give Buck a moment of relief. Buck loves him and hates it all the same. Thrusts carefully into Eddie's fist and notices the fond smile that calls to Eddie's mouth. Like he’s trying not to burst with joy at catching Buck so sweetly vulnerable.

“It's your first time,” Buck pleads, because he wants so badly to touch, but he's also so afraid of pushing Eddie too far too fast.

“You can touch,” Eddie repeats, all gentle voice and delicate smile. “You're not gonna break me, Buck. I trust you. With all of me.”

Buck swallows hard at that. Breathes out through his nose to try to keep his emotion in check. “Yeah?” Buck confirms again, all big eyes he knows Eddie can't resist.

Eddie smiles again, fond and adoring, as he uses his free hand to twine his fingers with Buck's. Drags Buck's hand close and then gives it a squeeze and lets him go. Gets a hand back on his hip and pets at his waist, digs his fingers in just a little to stake his claim, and Buck thinks he might die for it.

Buck, tentative as he is, reaches out to twine his fingers through Eddie's hair. Lets one hand fall to the curve of Eddie's neck, thumb tracing the cut of Eddie's jaw and the swell of his lips. Holds on as Eddie smiles again, a little predatory this time, and then shifts to get his mouth back around Buck. Moans low as the taste of precome that hits his tongue and squeezes Buck's hip in encouragement when Buck lets them lift in desperation. 

Buck doesn't let himself get carried away, but god, he's never felt anything quite like what Eddie's giving him. Tugs just a little at Eddie's hair, an experiment that earns another groan from Eddie and has him forcing himself down a little too far, until his throat spasms and he's pulling back to where he can breathe through it. Eddie keeps the tip in his mouth, suckles at it and keeps his tongue moving even as he recovers.

“God, you're beautiful.” The words slip out, full of a kind of reverence Buck's not sure he's ever felt before, and they have Eddie tilting his eyes up, letting loose a shivering breath that Buck can see is all a response to his words—a moment of vulnerability that maybe shouldn't be so impactful, considering, but it is, and Buck feels a little like he’s flying and also maybe like he’s dying from it. Doesn't understand this feeling or the way it centers around Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. It's not the sex. Not the moments of prolonged pleasure or the heat of their bodies or even the feel of Eddie's mouth around him. It's the delicate look of adoration in those eyes, the sweet way Eddie's taking control and guiding them because he knows Buck can't. It feels something like love in a way Buck's never known it, and he thinks he might die to keep it.

Eddie takes Buck deeper again, moans around Buck's length when Buck's fingers tighten just a hint in his hair at the feel of him. Eddie's a little more careful this time, strokes firmly at what he can't take and swallows around what he can as Buck leaks on his tongue. 

“Eddie,” Buck gasps, tugging a little at his hair, and letting a hand fall lower to grip at Eddie's shoulder just to touch because he's so fucking overwhelmed with it. Eddie hums around him, and Buck's choking on his breath. Warns, “I'm so close, Eddie. Eddie. E-eddie, I'm gonna come. Eddie.”

Buck's orgasm takes Eddie by surprise, even with the warning. He sputters for a moment, pulls back until just the tip of Buck's cock remains closed between his lips, and swallows around him, dragging a desperate groan out of Buck as his fingers scramble out of Eddie's hair, hands drifting to frame his cheeks.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Buck gasps, breath coming hard as he strokes at Eddie's jaw, presses at the hinge of it until Eddie gets the message. Meets Buck's gaze with his own, eyes tearing with the effort as he lets his mouth fall open, just enough that Buck can watch the rest of his release pool across Eddie's tongue. 

Eddie stays still for him. Lets Buck drag exploring fingers over his skin, his hair, his lips. And Buck can't help the way he whimpers when Eddie smiles, open mouthed, kitten licks at the head of Buck's cock, careful not to spill the mess on his tongue, and then closes his lips around the head, suckles gently, and swallows.

Buck moans, low and loud, and squirms at the overstimulation. Tugs gently at Eddie's hair.

Eddie lets him go, strokes gently once, twice more, just to hear the shuddering breath it forces out of Buck, and then lets Buck's softening cock rest against the cut of his groin. Lets his hands stray to massage at Buck's hips and thighs as they come down from the high.

When Eddie looks up at him again, eyes big and sweet and wet, Buck nearly loses his breath all over again. There's a bit of white clinging to the corner of Eddie's mouth, remnants of Buck's release offering a stark reminder that this was anything—everything—but a dream, and Buck can't help the way his breath stutters to a stop as he reaches down to cup Eddie's chin in his palm, Eddie nuzzling into him. Buck's thumb strokes absent-mindedly over Eddie's cheek for a moment as Eddie lets his eyes fall closed, and Buck—still transfixed on that streak of white—finds himself skating his thumb closer, catching the milky substance and pushing it past Eddie's lips. For his part, Eddie opens his eyes, meets Buck's own, a little smirk of mischief dancing in his gaze as he parts his lips just enough to suck Buck's thumb into his mouth, tongue twisting delicately around the soft flesh of Buck's fingertip as he cleans away any remnants of Buck's release, moaning low in his throat as he swallows around him.

“Fuck, Eddie, come here,” Buck murmurs desperately, tugging gently at Eddie's chin, thumb still trapped between Eddie's lips. 

Buck fumbles a bit hauling Eddie up and over him, shifting until they both fit onto the couch, Buck's leg hiked up against the couch back, other foot planted firmly on the floor, so he can drag Eddie between his spread thighs. Before they're even settled, Eddie's grabbing harshly at Buck's chin, so he can get his lips on Buck's, and Buck is reduced to desperate whimpers that Eddie swallows down around a smile.

It's fucking intoxicating.

“Off,” Buck begs, muffled against Eddie's mouth, as he shoves at Eddie's shirt, tucking one hand up underneath it to get to Eddie's bare skin as the other dips below the waistband of Eddie's underwear, just enough to tease. Eddie grins, desperate and wild, teeth catching Buck's lip as he shoves into Buck's touch, Buck's mouth open and pliant as he groans low and holds tight to Eddie. In answer, Eddie tugs at the material of his shirt one handed, too preoccupied with Buck's mouth to dip back and unbutton properly. He doesn't get far, the buttons refusing to give in his haste, much to Buck's dismay. Buck huffs in frustration, shoving the material up Eddie's chest, another irritated “off” growled out into Eddie's mouth, teeth catching sharp on Eddie's bottom lip. 

Eddie smiles, lets a happy laugh slip as he reaches up to drag a teasing finger down Buck's cheek before pulling his mouth away just long enough to tug the offending fabric up over his head. Buck latches onto Eddie's throat the moment it's bared, purring out his satisfaction at the newly exposed skin as he sucks a mark into a spot that makes Eddie squirm.

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, a hot rush of breath tickling Buck's curls as Eddie sinks his fingers in and holds him tight, elbows pressing into Buck's shoulders.

Buck grins against his neck and slides an arm around Eddie's back, the fingers still tucked in Eddie's waistband petting teasingly over the soft skin at his hip. Tugs back and away just far enough to break Eddie's hold and shift up, breath whisper-quiet at Eddie's ear as he murmurs “tell me what you want, Eddie,” all confident swagger, even as his belly fills with butterflies—a delicate mix of nerves and desperation at the thought of getting his hands on Eddie, maybe even a little more eager than he was to have Eddie's hands on him.

Eddie whimpers. A needy little sound that Eddie tucks into Buck's neck, ghosting a delicate kiss there. “Touch me,” he begs, hips shifting just right to have Buck's fingertips slipping just a little lower.

Buck smirks at that, tugging Eddie close enough to feel the hard ridge of him pressed to Buck's belly, and Buck shivers at the all too real reminder that they're actually here. That Eddie's open and willing and wanting Buck. And for a moment it gives him pause—has him catching his breath with the reality of it all.

And when Eddie tilts his chin back, eyes finding Buck's as he smiles—all joy and adoration—and then presses another kiss to the corner of Buck's mouth, murmured devotion lost in its wake, Buck can't help but claim Eddie's mouth for his. Kisses Eddie sweet and slow as he shifts to shimmy Eddie's briefs down, just enough to get a hand on him, and then Eddie's mouth is falling open against Buck's, a sweet whine pitched high as Buck starts to tease, touch featherlight as he drags his fingertips up Eddie's shaft.

“Tease,” Eddie accuses, tugging away from Buck's mouth just the slightest bit, breath harsh as he presses into Buck's touch, begging with all he has when words fail him.

Buck lets a slow smirk slip over his mouth, kisses at Eddie's jaw. “So desperate for me,” almost a whisper, but cocky enough to have Eddie whining in answer again. “You want more, baby?”

Eddie blinks hard, breath stuttering as he tucks his face into Buck's neck and sobs when Buck, instead of waiting for an answer, wraps his fingers tight around Eddie's cock and strokes slow. The pressure just right to have Eddie squirming and thrusting up into Buck's fist, trying to gain some kind of control over Buck's pace. Buck stills him, wrapping his free arm tight around Eddie's waist and pressing him down against Buck's thighs to immobilize him as best he can. Kisses the shell of Eddie's ear when he hears Eddie whimper a quiet “please,” and squeezes at Eddie's hip to calm him.

“Wanna take my time with you,” Buck admits, the cocky swagger in his tone faltering and falling into something a little sweeter and a little softer that gives away the edge of fear that this is all he'll have. 

He hates himself a little bit for letting the facade fall when he feels Eddie still, body shaking with the effort, as he shifts back, hands reaching to frame Buck's face, fingers gentle as they fan over his cheeks. Buck feels his eyes dampen with emotion again as Eddie studies his features, taking in the worried downturn of his mouth and the furrow of his brow.

And then Eddie's leaning in, pressing a delicate kiss to the pink of Buck's birthmark, and Buck can't stop the lone tear that tracks down his cheek. Eddie, breath still calming, gives him another sweet smile and wipes away the evidence with a gentle sweep of his thumb. “Next time,” he murmurs, all full of promise, shifting to peck at Buck's lips, “you can take your time with me next time.”

Buck's breath catches at that, eyes big and hopeful. “Y-yeah?”

Eddie smiles, bright and happy and kisses Buck hard and sweet. “Yeah,” he promises, all fond joy. Buck nods his acceptance, squeezing Eddie's hip and refocusing on the job at hand, giving Eddie another experimental stroke just to tease him, and Eddie shakes in his arms and whimpers, letting his forehead fall against Buck's.

“Yeah?” Buck asks again, tone shifting, cocky smirk finding its way back onto his lips.

“Yes,” Eddie hisses, arms falling back to frame Buck's shoulders, hands sinking up into his curls. “Now, can you please make me come? I'm so fucking close and you're so good. Just. Please. Buck.”

Buck doesn't make him wait. Swipes his thumb over the head of Eddie's cock, just to tease, and then picks up a steady rhythm, stroking with a firm grip. Eddie groans, tugs at Buck's hair, and drags Buck's mouth down to the crook of his neck. Buck takes the hint, mouth turning up into a grin against Eddie's skin as he bites gently at the muscle there and then soothes the sting with his tongue. Sucks at Eddie's skin until Eddie's choking on a moan, crushing Buck closer and clutching hard at his curls, a broken “Bu-uck” ripping from his lips as Buck twists his wrist just right.

“Yeah,” Buck mumbles, prying his mouth away against the force of Eddie's grip. Kisses the shell of his ear, the hinge of his jaw, the corner of his lips. “Eddie. Come for me.”

Eddie chokes on a groan, leans in to catch Buck's mouth in a desperate kiss as he loses control, body thrusting up into Buck's touch as his orgasm crashes through him. Leaves him panting and whining against Buck's lips as Buck works him through it, touch shifting from firm to gentle as Eddie shakes in his arms.

As Eddie comes down from the high of it all, he shifts until he's resting against Buck, face tucked into Buck's neck as his breathing evens out and his heartbeat returns to some semblance of normal.

Buck smiles, pressing delicate kisses to Eddie's temple and petting a hand through his hair, gentle touch soothing in the afterglow.

“Made a mess of you,” Eddie murmurs after long moments of quiet, eyes transfixed on the pool of come on Buck's bare chest, fingers reaching to slide through the remnants of his release. Buck's eyes track the movement, watching, transfixed, as Eddie scrapes what he can onto two long fingers.

When Eddie draws his hand away, Buck can't help himself from reaching out to catch his wrist. Draws Eddie’s fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. Leaves Eddie blinking in surprise and breathing a little heavier at the twist of Buck's tongue.

“Fuck,” Eddie murmurs, all awe and heat, as Buck pulls away.

Buck smirks up at him, laves his tongue around the tips of Eddie's fingers one last time. “Needed a taste,” Buck flirts, voice pitched low, “till I can get my mouth on you properly. Next time.”

Eddie can't hold back the laugh that bursts from his chest at that, joy overflowing as he dips down to lick the taste of himself from Buck's mouth, Buck smiling against his lips the whole way.

“Keep it up,” Eddie threatens, all sexy playful swagger as he draws back just a breath, “and next time might come sooner than you think.”

“Mmm,” Buck hums, pressing another sweet kiss to Eddie's lips, drawing Eddie down tighter against his chest, “promises, promises.”

Eddie's eyes soften, take on that sweet quality Buck's seen for years but never really noticed like he is in this moment. Feels his breath catch as Eddie reaches up to push the sweaty curls back away from Buck's eyes and holds his gaze.

“Have lots of promises for you,” Eddie entrusts, delicate smile betraying an adoration Buck's not sure he's worthy of. “Plan to keep ‘em all.”

Buck's breath catches again, eyes shining with emotion at just how big all of this feels. At just how deep his feelings for Eddie run.

He nods. A quiet affirmation that he plans to let Eddie offer them all. That he understands the weight of everything they are and everything he thinks they will be.

But he can't speak the words yet—everything too deep and too raw and too fresh. His mind a mess of adoration and joy, but also a tangle of confusion and fear alongside the hope.

So he doesn't speak it yet.

Instead, tucks Eddie against his chest. Takes his weight. Wraps him tight in his arms and holds on.

Eddie clings just as tight.

—

[peaches-n-bleach]

BabyTrapper!Toji x Reader

(TW)ੈ✩‧₊˚ oral(fem receiving) pet names (baby/ma/mamas), penetrative sex, messing with readers medication, back shots, squirting, breeding,

(WC)ੈ✩‧₊˚ 3.5k

(A/N)ੈ✩‧₊˚: Hello everyone! this is my first post/ smut fic. im not very good but I'm up for criticism pleeease let me know how i did! Also, feel free to ask me questions, or if you have a certain character you would like me to write something about, feel free to ask! I hope you guys enjoy it!

. . . ╰──╮18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR ENTER!╭──╯ . . .

He felt awful. Honestly, he did. Every first of the month, Toji had that sinking feeling in his gut when he swapped out your birth control with placebos. A heavy sigh fell from his lips as he swapped the fake ones into the pharmacy bag, burying the real ones in the bottom of the trash, which were never to be found. You didn't suspect a thing, just gushing at your sweet boyfriend being so lovely and picking up your birth control pills for you for the past three months. The thought of you round and pregnant, greeting him sweetly every time he came home, or creating the cutest baby from the lewdest act made him stiff in his sweats. Toji leaned against the counter, closing his eyes briefly, only if you knew how hooked Toji was on you. The night Toji decided he would breed you and make you his forever was always in the back of his head, fresh in his mind.

Toji grunted slightly as he kissed your ankle, his cloudly blue eyes peering down at you. Your hair is damp with sweat, causing it to stick to your forehead. Going down to your face, your eyes halfway shut, a fucked out look on your face. Running his hands down your flushed, warmed skin, squeezing your bare breast, chuckling lowly as he pinched your nipples harshly, “ Ngh- Toji, stop teasing!~” You exclaimed, frustratingly rocking your hips slightly and feeling his girthy cock drag deep inside you against your walls. He’s been edging you for hours now. He was building you up till your thighs were shaking and your head was dizzy, only to harshly strip your euphoria away, making you cry out desperately. Clicking his tongue, he ran his hands down your stomach and up your legs that were hooked over his shoulders. “Mmm… 'm sorry baby, just can't help it... You so pretty under me I can't help but savor the view I'm getting~.” Rocking his hips, a tortures slow pace inside you, eyes going down to your core seeing the white creamy ring around his cock where your pussy greedily sucked him in. hooking one arm to hold up your soft legs around him, then the other lowering itself down to rub small circles into your delicate bundle of nerves 

“If you want something, you know you gotta ask properly…” Toji teased, watching you pant and buck your hips into his hand, struggling to even get a word out besides pitiful whines.

“A desperate lil slut~ Ya’already cock drunk ya can't even fucking speak?” Pressing his thumb down harshly on your clit, a sick smirk plastered on his face. “Say it, beg me to let you cum like the fucking slut you are…” You fisted the sheets, knuckles turning white, droplets of sweat forming against your skin as the heat bubbled under your skin. “Puh-leaseeee Toji fuck me -please-need’ta cum…wanna cum on your cock!-fuck…please daddy it hurts!” You exclaimed, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes in desperation. Chest heaving as you panted, a pleading look on your face. Toji’s cock twitched inside you, making the muscular man groan. Instantly hooking his hands under your knees, pushing them against your face. Breasts squished together, pushed up as he bent you in half, looming over you. “Mmm...Don't worry, baby-daddies got ya, gonna treat this pussy real nice…” 

Biting your lip as you felt his cock pull out of you, your juices soaking his cock, making wet noises as he pulled out to where his thick mushroom tip was kissing your entrance. Batting your lashes up at him in a final begging look. Toji couldn't help but scoff. If only you knew how down bad he was for you. His heavy hips thrust down harshly, his heavy cock stretching you out thoroughly. 

“Y-yes! Please!-give it to me, Daddy!” You moaned out lewdly, your head thrown back at the pure force that made your toes curl. That was all he needed, fleshing as he pushed your knees up further, properly bending you in half as he fucked into your sweet pussy at a relentless, rough pace. The hours of tortuous edging make your walls tighten around his cock, your orgasm building up in record time. Relieved that it could finally have its release. Toji remembered the dazed fucked out look on your face as you squirted against his cock. Soaking his abdomen and between your thighs. He remembered fucking you through your orgasm as your tongue rolled out your mouth, begging him to kiss you. The sweet memory of his tongue swirling with yours while his balls tighten and him slamming his cock into your cervix as he emptied his heavy load inside you. When he finally pulled out watching, your whole body trembled, watching cum leak out of you, staining the sheets. That was the day Toji decided he needed you forever. The day he decided he was gonna breed your pussy properly and get you pregnant no matter what. 

He pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the front door open, followed by your cheery voice, “Toji! I'm home. Is curry okay for dinner? I've been craving it!” Kicking the door closed, you held a few grocery bags. Your tall boyfriend appeared coming out of the kitchen making you smile at him. “Hey, baby..” Toji greeted you softly, leaning down to capture your lips into his. It wasn't a soft, sweet kiss to welcome you home. It was dominating and sensual. Biting your lip, making you gasp for his tongue to fight its way into your mouth. Of course, you accepted the kiss happily. He maneuvered the grocery bags out of your hands, making you drop them on the floor haphazardly.

Wrapping your arms around his muscular frame, pulling back for air, panting slightly. “Well, I'm glad you seem excited to see me~” You teased softly, making him smirk against your lips. He moved his face into your neck as he relaxed into the scent of your perfume. You used it all the time. Toji got it for you on your birthday, and you loved it so much that he got you a new bottle before you even had a chance to run out of the previous one. “Just missed ya is all… caught me in a sweet mood,” Giggling at him, running your hands down his back. “Did you have a good day? Oh! Did you pick up my birth control? I took the last one this morning.”

Toji huffed into your skin. You were so sweet. Sometimes, he thought about coming clean about switching your birth control out. Technically, he did; it's just that you didn't need to know about the switch. You never needed to know. You were going to love being a mother. You would look beautiful, cradling his baby in your arms. You were too dense to convince and listen to him when he told you. So, he had to use his underhanded methods.

Nodding softly as he hooked his arms around you giving your ass a soft squeeze, “It's better now that you’re finally home, and yea, I got your stupid meds that are blocking me from giving what my girl deserves…” You pouted, hearing that, looking up at him. “Toji, we talked abo-” Suddenly lifting you, he hooked you over his shoulder with ease. “Yea, yea, you don't think your ready to be a mom and all that bull shit…” He said in a sarcastic tone. You could practically feel him rolling his eyes. Carrying you into the bedroom, “Talking all that crazy shit, like you wouldn't be the best mama in the whole fucking world…You're just gonna have to make it up to me for even thinking bad about yourself.”

Hearing the low, sensual tone in his voice already had your thighs clenching together that didn't go unnoticed by him. “But the grocer-!” Flopping you on the bed, cutting you off again as you bounced against the soft mattress. Leaning over, you capturing your lips against his again as he reached down to unbutton your shorts, sliding them down your legs eagerly. A shiver went down your spine as feeling his stiff cock that was straining agast his sweatpants press up against your clothed core. His hands rubbing your hips and playing with the hem of your panties as he kissed and sucked down your neck. Wherever his lips touched, you could feel the heat of your skin rise. Grinding his hips against yours, his cock pressed between your folds, bumping your clit softly. 

“Ngh- can't believe you would ever say that…mph..like you wouldn’t be the sweetest mommy carrying a mini-me on your hip~” Sucking dark hickies into your skin, you could feel your arousal flow to your core, dampening your panties against your lips. His hands worked under your shirt as he hummped against you. Your juices formed a wet spot on his gray sweats, pulling your shirt and bra off over your head in one quick motion. Biting your lip, feeling the air hit your nipples, causing them to perk up, Toji licked his lips. He wanted to devour you whole; the urge to be lodged deep inside you, always to have his hands on your body, was too great. Leaning down, capturing one of the perky buds into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, making you whine out in surprise. “Mph-Toji, don’t be m-mean,” You moaned out softly, feeling his tongue swirl around your nip as his hands reached over, giving the other a pinch, making you yelp. The pouty look on your face quickly replaced with one of vigor as he continued to grind against you. 

His cock grinding against your clit perfectly, making your insides ache. Pulling off your breast with a pop, the sheen of his spit making your breast glisten. “shhhh…” He hushed you, moving away slightly to remove his clothes. You couldn't help but bite your lip, admiring his broad shoulders and muscular form. Everything about Toji just made you crave him more. His firm, muscular frame to his cocky grin down to the vast girthy cock between his legs. “Dumb little girls like you don't know what good for them….need men like me to show you what you need, for their own good..”

He leaned down where he was face to face with your core cock pressed against the soft sheets with your legs spread wide and your legs around him. Smirking as he hooked his fingers against the front of your panties, tugging it up harsky. The wet fabric wedged against your folds, making you gasp and squirm the damp fabric against your clit. “Don't worry, baby daddies gonna give you what you need… gonna fuck a baby into you, give ya lil brat to take care of- ok baby?” You nodded softly, his words only making you crave more “Y-yes Toji-pleaseee fuck- need your cum…” 

Toji smirked and rubbed down your thighs. His dumb lil girl. Agreeing to such a thing, thinking it was all talk. Deep inside, Toji knew. Tonight, he would breed you properly, but you wouldn't leave this room until he ensured it took.

Moving your panties to the side, he leaned down, his warm breath against your pussy. “Such a sweet pussy…look at how wet she is for me mama..” Toji rasped as he took two fingers to spread your folds, watching your hole clench around nothing, yearning to be filled and pumped full. “Your pussy wants my cock, hm baby?..” His words cast a spell over you, making your head foggy and eager to please him. “Mm..yea, Daddy, it needs you…want you till fill me up.” The urge to give in to your wishes bubbled up in his chest, but he wanted to savor every moment, so he needed self-restraint. Blowing against your clit softly, “Well, that's just too bad..your going to have to be a good girl and be patient..” He rumbled, rolling his tongue out. He licked a long stripe against your core, making your hips jump. A relieved whine came from your throat, encouraging him to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking softly. While collecting your juices against his fingers, circling your entrance before inserting two fingers deeply inside you. Your walls clenched around him as he curled his long, thick fingers find that sweet spot inside you. Hitting it repeatedly as he dragged your clit across his wide tongue before sucking on it eagerly again.

He thrust his fingers in a scissoring motion into you deeply, making sure to hit your g-spot every time, dragging his fingers against it. Toji rutted his aching cock into the mattress listening to the sweet sound you made. Your legs were already trembling fromToji’s rough pace. “C’mon, mama cum on my face…and ill give you my cock…c’mon be a good girl for me~” He rasped as you bucked your hips into his face fucking yourself against his fingers. “Fuck!- I wanna be g-good! ….so close, please!..” You keened softly. The wet squelching sounds of his moist tongue against your pussy was lewd and dirty sounding. Toji flicked his tongue against your sensitive bud, adding a third finger, making sure to stretch you properly for his cock. 

Melting into his touch, your back arched as you humped his face with need “T-toji!-”   Was all you could manage to cry out before your orgasm was washing over you in waves. “Shiiit..good fucking girl….fucking sweetest pussy..” Your juices coated his mouth and chin as he drank your nectar greedily, his fingers pumping inside you through your orgasm, slowly pulling his finger out as you came down from your high. You panted softly, fluttering your eyes closed, enjoying the afterglow of your orgasm. Feeling the mattress dip slightly made you peek your eyes open only to see Toji pumping his cock slowly, his cock so heavy it couldn't even stand up when stiff. All in its ten ich glory, his thumb ran across the large veins decorating his cock, causing pre to drip onto your inner thigh. Mouth-watering in desire, making you lick your lips, loving the feeling of his girth plunging down your throat. Toji seemed to notice your desire and laughed lowly. “Next time, mama, just let me take of you right now…now get on yer knees for me~” He husked, holding your hips and helping you turn over on your knees, pointing to him. Head resting softly against your silky pillow, knees dipping into the mattress, plump ass in the air. Toji bit back a moan at the sight of your ass, your sweet pussy peeking between your eyes, taunting him, begging him to slip inside and fill it up.

Smirking as he slapped your pussy softly before running his hands, gripping handfuls of your ass. “Finally going to give you what you deserve baby-fuck- just gotta lay here and take my cock like you always do..” Stroking his cock before he aligned it with your soft puckering hole. Pushing the tip inside, then pulling it out, then again teasing you, groaning in frustration, arching your face to the side to glare at him. Impatiently you moved your hips back, backing up against his cock and pushing it deeper inside you. Gripping your pillow, you've taken his cock so many times, and even with the prep, his cock stretched your hole to its limits. The familiar burn makes you quiver. “You to b-big! W-wont fit!~” Rolling his eyes, Toji grabbed your hips, helping you back up against hit “C’mon mama..doing so good for me-shit….you got it baby…done it before,” Toji husked, his cock throbbing impatiently. He looked down, grinning as he was only halfway in. Usually, he would take his time with you, but Toji was rarely a patient man. Gripping your hips before pulling you back against his base. 

Sinking into your warmness, your pussy welcoming him, tightening around him. The sudden force made you lurch forward slightly, though his bag hands against you kept you in place. “Mmph! Fuck!~ ….so deep daddy can feel you in my belly,,,” Leaning over you and kissing down your spine, his hands glided across your body, squeezing your soft breast. Toji couldn't wait when they were full and leaking out with milk. 

“That's right, mama, gotta fuck a baby right into you, making that belly so big and round..” He grunted as he slowly lost all self-control, rocking his hips into you before guiding you back to meet his thrust as he quickened his pace. Toji could swear this was heaven. Sinking into your soft cunt, he could die happy one hand held your hips, and he leaned over you more, raking his finger through your soft lock before he forced your face down against the mattress, starting to fuck into you at an animalistic face. 

“Ahh! S-so good! Daddy, please! Want your cum so bad! Ngh-” You mewled out desperately. He stared down at you and saw how quickly you were becoming a mess. Breathing became short and ragged; he could see the pillow stained with tears as you cried with pleasure. How your pussy clenched around him anytime he tugged your hair against your scalp as you could barely produce a thought as you babbled and moaned brainlessly.

“Such a dumb little girl-shit… going dumb on my cock already mama?” You barely registered what he was saying, only able to weakly nod as his rough thrusts rocked your whole body, the veins on his cock dragging against your silky walls. That answer didn't seem to satisfy Toji, grunting as he roughly yanked your hair back, making you gasp, looking up quickly as your head ached. Though the pain only sent shivers down your spine, the dull pain was delicious. 

“I expect a fucking answer when I’m talkin’ ta ya!” Tears rolled down your cheeks as you panted his cock fucking into your cervix, making you dizzy. “Y-yes Daddy!....... Ngh~ s-so deep-Ngh c-cant think!~....” Your words slurred together, making the older male smirk low, with a deep rumble leaving his chest. Toji laughed at your undone state. His heavy balls slapped against your clit as he thrust into you. You could feel your abdomen tighten, closing your eyes tightly. The sound of hard, rhythmic skin slapping against each other almost drowned out your moan, which was Music to Toji’s ears. 

Toji grunted. He could feel your pussy spasm around him “Close ma? Gonna cum for me?Ngh-” He grunted as you held onto your pillow as if it was a lifeline smacking your ass harshly, watching it jiggle “F-fuuck!~ yes Daddy G-going to cum!...” Toji shook his and smirked and manhandled you, forcing you flat down against your tummy. “J-just hold it, baby, hold that shit in till I say so..” Toji braced his arm against each side of you as you shook your head, his stomach pressing against your back, sinking him in deeper into your sweet cunt.

“I c-cant!~ please! Need to cum puh-leaseeee!~” You exclaimed desperately, leaning down, his lips brushing against your ear softly before nibbling against it. “Ya fucking better if you know what's good for ya-” He whispered softly into your ear, rutting into you brutally, feeling his cock twitch and swell, eager to let his load dump inside you. Finally, give you a baby. Make you his forever. The thought had him desperate for release, hips slapping against you, making the mattress creek and bedpost hit the wall in loud, repeated bumps.

“Cum with me Mama-shit... Cum on my cuck so I can fill this sweet cunt up…” He growled out as his thrust started to become sloppy. All you could manage to do was babble gratefully. Toji could make out small whimpers of thank yous and pleas of desperation. With one last roll of his hips, you were seeing stars. Your orgasm flowed through your core with such power you were squirting, your juices making a wet puddle under the two of you. “Fuuuuck, that's it, baby…Your cunny is all ready to take my cum~ ready to make you a fucking mama” Thrusting harshly, your body bounced off the mattress slightly and back into him. Grunting as he held your body down possessively, “FUCK-take it!” Feeling his warm load spurt into your womb it made you feel full and achy at the sheer amount. Your vision was fading into black as he fucked his cum deep into you. After a few moments, Toji laid on top of you, his cock drained as your pussy took his cum greedily. 

Slowly pulling out, he had a shit-eating grin as he massaged down your back and kissed your shoulders. “Gonna be such a sweet mommy to our lil brat,” Toji grumbled into your ear, the last thing you heard before your vision faded to black. He sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead before spreading your legs, admiring his work. Watching as thick globs of cum leaked out your spent pussy. Shaking his head, he licked his lips.

“Guess we'll have to go another round to make sure it sticks, huh, mama?~”