#I COMPLETELY MEANT TO DRAW THEM HOLDING HANDS
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Dad quinn with jack and luke having a tea party with his daughter and her dolls and she makes them dress up
The living room was chaos, but the good kind. The kind that came from his three-year-old daughter holding court in the middle of her very serious tea party, complete with a floral blanket as a tablecloth and a tiny ceramic tea set she insisted on arranging herself.
Quinn sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing a glittery plastic tiara that he’d forgotten about five minutes in. It was second nature by now — dressing up, playing along, doing whatever made her smile.
Across from Quinn, Luke was in his element, completely at ease in the whirlwind of pretend tea and glittering accessories. His niece was perched on his lap, her tiny hands carefully tipping the toy teapot toward a ceramic cup he held with exaggerated precision. The pink feather boa draped around his neck kept slipping off one shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he leaned into the ridiculousness of it, readjusting it dramatically like it was part of some royal decree. Every flourish, every goofy movement was aimed at one thing: making her laugh.
And it worked.
She leaned against his chest, giggling so hard she nearly tipped the teapot too far. Her tiny fingers clutched the handle as she steadied herself, her cheeks flushed from laughter.
“Uncle Lukey!” she squealed, her voice full of joy. “You’re spilling it!”
Luke gasped as if he’d committed the gravest of sins.
“Oh no!” he said, sitting up straighter and clutching the cup like it held liquid gold. “Quick, pour me more so no one notices!”
She threw her head back in a fresh wave of giggles, her whole body shaking against him. Still grinning, Luke reached out to steady her little wrist as she tilted the teapot with a seriousness that belied the fact it was empty.
“Perfect,” he said as she finished, his tone so genuine it could have been mistaken for awe. “You’re a natural. The Queen of Tea Parties.”
Her laughter bubbled up again, spilling into the room as she beamed at him. Luke’s grin only widened, the softness in his gaze unmistakable as he looked at her. He had a knack for this — for making her feel like she was the most important person in the room, for meeting her imagination with an endless well of his own. She adored him, and the feeling was mutual, clear in every playful quip and dramatic gesture.
She turned the teapot upright with a decisive nod, then leaned back against his chest, sighing contentedly.
“You’re silly,” she declared, her voice full of the kind of affection only a three-year-old could manage.
Luke chuckled, tapping her nose lightly. “Only for you, kiddo.”
Quinn felt a warmth settle in his chest as he watched them. Moments like this didn’t come often enough, not with the way their lives constantly pulled them in different directions. But seeing Luke lean so completely into her little world, his every exaggerated move drawing out her laughter, made Quinn pause. It was simple, but it meant everything.
Meanwhile, Jack lounged nearby, his legs stretched out in front of him, a toy teacup balanced precariously on his knee. The sequinned cowboy hat his niece had insisted he wear sat slightly askew on his head, and every few minutes, he’d reach up to adjust it with an exaggerated flourish, earning a giggle from her each time.
“Do I get any of this famous tea,” he drawled, leaning back on his elbows, “or is Lukey keeping it all for himself?”
Now standing beside the table with her tiny teapot, she paused to give him a pointed look, one hand on her hip. “Uncle Jack,” she said seriously, though the sparkle in her eyes gave her away, “you have to ask nicely.”
Jack gasped, sitting up straight.
“Oh, excuse me, Your Royal Highness,” he said, bowing his head deeply and holding out his teacup with dramatic flair. “May I please have a cup of the finest tea in the land?”
She beamed, clearly delighted, and wiggled off Luke’s lap to pour him a fresh cup.
“You’re lucky I made extra,” she teased, the way he always did, her little voice full of pride.
Jack accepted it with a grin, bowing his head slightly in mock grandeur.
“Why, thank you, m’lady,” he said, taking an exaggerated sip before smacking his lips. “Best tea I’ve ever had. Five stars. Nope! Ten stars.”
She giggled, covering her mouth with her tiny hand as she bounced on her toes. “Ten stars?”
“Easily,” Jack replied, settling back into his seat. “Lukey’s tea doesn’t even come close. You’re the pro.”
Her eyes lit up, and she leaned in, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Uncle Lukey doesn’t put magic in it.”
Jack let out a warm laugh, low and genuine, reaching out to pull her in for a quick hug.
“Well, that explains it,” he said, his tone conspiratorial. “No wonder your tea’s the best.”
Her giggles bubbled up even more, and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder for a moment, basking in the playfulness of it all. Jack’s teasing smirk softened as he glanced down at her, the fondness in his expression unmistakable.
“You’re the best, you know that?” He ruffled her hair gently, his tone quiet but full of affection.
Her face lit up even brighter at his words, her teapot clutched tightly in her small hands.
Quinn’s lips tugged into a smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his brothers playing along so easily, so naturally. This wasn’t a rare thing — his brothers adored her — but it wasn’t often they were all together like this. The laughter, the goofy costumes, the tiny teacups… It was exactly what he hoped she’d remember when she grew up. Not the big things, but this: the love that filled a room when she brought everyone together.
“Daddy, you didn’t drink your tea,” her little voice piped up, breaking through his thoughts.
She stood in front of him, her tiny frame impossibly determined as she held out a fresh cup, the seriousness in her expression almost making him laugh.Quinn smiled, reaching out to take the cup.
“Oh no, Bug, I can’t believe I forgot,” he said, his voice soft and playful as he brought the tiny cup to his lips, pretending to sip. He made a quiet, exaggerated sound of satisfaction. “Mmm, perfect. You’re the best tea-maker in the whole wide world.”
Her serious expression melted away into a bright smile, and before he could say another word, she leaned in, wrapping one arm around his shoulder in that shy, affectionate way little kids do when they’re basking in a compliment. Her cheek pressed to his temple as her fingers brushed the back of his neck.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she murmured, her voice small and sweet, and Quinn felt his chest tighten in the best way.
He turned his head just enough to press a kiss to the top of her head, his hand gently steadying the tiny arm she had draped around his neck.
“Love you, Buggy,” he murmured, the words soft but carrying a weight of tenderness that he knew she couldn’t fully understand yet, though someday she would.
She giggled, that sweet, unfiltered sound that always tugged at his heart, and pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. Her wide eyes shone with delight before she spun around, skipping off to Luke’s lap with all the confidence in the world, her little crown wobbling precariously with each bounce.
He leaned back slightly, letting the moment wash over him. Luke was helping her fix a doll’s hat now, while Jack balanced the tiny teacup on the tip of his finger. His daughter’s giggles bubbled up again, spilling through the room like sunshine, and Quinn thought to himself — not for the first time — how lucky he was.
#uncle jack and uncle luke you will always be famous#i love love love when i get requests about dad!quinn with his brothers and his kids!!!!! just saying#dad!quinn#capquinn's writing#capquinn’s requests#quinn hughes#jack hughes#luke hughes
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@neilimfinejosten and @prince-peachie requested cuddles/Andrew sleeping on Neil and I just. Imagine the first time Andrew says “screw it” and takes a lethal amount of Xanax before a plane trip
(Requests have since been closed - I’m here to post the ones I got over the holidays 😊)
#I COMPLETELY MEANT TO DRAW THEM HOLDING HANDS#but the stars.#the stars weren’t in alignment 😔#maybe one day I’ll revisit this idea#bc I like it#fan art#my art#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil#requests#holiday requests 22/23
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forget me not II l.williamson x reader
forget me not II l.williamson x reader
"only me lee!" you called out, slipping out of your coat and hanging it by the door, tugging your beanie off and running a hand through your hair. you sighed happily at the much warmer temperature in the house compared to the brutal winter wind bellowing outside.
but there was nothing that could wipe the grin off of your face, having just wrapped up your final day of your degree and handing in your final thesis, you were on top of the world.
and at that moment, leah had been determined to keep you there.
"leah?" you called out for your girlfriend, eyebrows furrowing in concern when there was nothing in return, though you could smell the orange blossom throughout the house where she'd had the diffuser on, and her car had been parked right next to yours when you pulled in.
"babe?" you yelled a little louder, unwinding your scarf and slipping off your sneakers leaving them by the door, frown deepening as you wandered further and further into your home with still no sign of the blonde to be seen.
but you melted as you rounded the corner and laid eyes upon a perfectly set dining room table, takeaway from your most treasured italian restaurant plated up beautifully with a glass of champagne poured to accompany it, an expensive looking bottle sat in a bucket of ice in the middle of the table.
you could see the food was still steaming which must have meant that-
"congratulations!" you jumped almost a foot in the air at the booming voice behind you, jolting around for a split second before leah engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet and cheering.
"leah!" you laughed, clutching onto her shoulders as the defender spun you around and carefully placed you back down on the ground. "i am so so unbelievably proud of you." her hands fell either side of your face, palms rough and callous but her touch warm and comforting as you melted into it.
"hold that thought." leahs finger smooshed against your lips for a second as she let go and stepped away, disappearing for a moment but returning with a huge bouquet of flowers in her arms.
"oh leah, you didn't need to do all this! i'd have been happy with a takeaway and a cheap bottle of wine." you exhaled with a soft smile, leah rolling her eyes affectionately and placing your flowers down on the table.
"only the best for the best. we can get wine drunk and have a greasy chinese any day of the week my girl, but its not every day that you graduate university with top marks, honors and three job offers!" your girlfriend reminded, shaking you proudly as you threw your head back with another laugh.
"i love you." you sighed, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around her neck, her own hands settling on your hips and drawing your body closer into hers, the scent of her perfume intoxicating as you drowned in it.
"i love you, i love our life, i love our home. and i love that i don't need to fight a big dusty stack of text books for your attention anymore!" the blonde teased as you grinned, leaning in to press a few short but sweet kisses against her lips.
"i knew that was coming." you sighed with a shake of your head, leah pulling a face and nodding, stealing another kiss and moving to pull your chair out for you, gesturing for you to sit down.
"i hate when you pull my chair out for me." you reminded as leah shrugged, pushing it in and stealing another kiss. "at restaurants, you didn't say anything about at home." leah winked taking her own seat as you rolled your eyes fondly.
"to you my love!" leah raised her glass with a beaming smile across the table, a fond grin on your own as a gentle clink sounded around the kitchen.
in that moment you felt loved and supported, as leah showered you with praise and hung off your every word as she asked you question after question about your finally completed thesis and how you were feeling.
if only you'd known it wouldn't last.
~
leah and you met through your cousin alessia.
the pair of you both the only girls in your immediate family and only a few months apart in age you'd grown up thick as thieves, adopting one another as the sisters you weren't given, both instead having older brothers.
you only grew closer as the years flew by, you making your way across the world to visit her when she was in college in america and the two of you vacationing together time and time again in italy with your families.
when alessia moved to manchester for football and you stayed in central london you saw less of one another, but still you did your best to make it to as many of her matches as you could, never gifted with much of a sporting ability which all three of your cousins had teased you for growing up.
you'd seen leah around in passing at the international games but never really had much to do with many of your cousins teammates bar the ones you saw more often that she played with at united or on the youth teams.
you had first been properly introduced to leah on a night out, arsenal playing united meant several of the england girls were going for dinner and given you'd gone to the game and hadn't seen alessia in well over a month she'd invited you to join them.
you hadn't interacted with leah all that much that night, spending most of your time glued to your cousins side making the most of your time with her, your exams now done for the semester you were making plans with her to go to ibiza after the season wrapped up.
but unknown to you, you'd stuck with leah a little more than she had with you.
you hadn't had anything else to do with her until a couple of weeks later, you were in between lectures and desperate for a coffee which actually tasted like coffee and not something from a gas station pod machine.
so you'd ducked out to a little cafe just down the road from the university, it was a fan favourite amongst studnets and often quite busy so you weren't surprised to see all the tables occupied and people stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting their takeaways.
you'd ordered your usual and a ham and cheese croissant to snack on along the way back, moving away from the counter to wait for your order, smiling apologetically at a blonde you'd accidentally backed up into.
you assumed that would be it, off in your own world as you started to daydream, which is why you missed the girl speak to you, only zoning in once she tapped you on the shoulder and you turned toward her with a curious frown.
"sorry, what?" you blinked realizing she'd said something and you'd missed it. "i said you look really familiar, have we met before?" the stranger asked and you let out a small puff of air in amusement. "is that supposed to be a pick up line?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as the blondes eyes widened.
"no! honestly. i would never try to pick you up-" she started but with a small scoff of offence from you her eyes widened further. "no! not that i wouldn't try to pick you up at all you're not ugly, but i wouldn't do it like that?" she cringed at herself as you hummed, turning back toward the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.
"hey no please, i'm so sorry this is all coming out wrong." the girl huffed with a shake of her head as again you only hummed and she seemed to give it up as there was a few beats of silence.
"oh! i know. you're...someones cousin." the girl seemed to light up, seemingly quite happy with herself as you threw her a side eye. "aren't we all technically someones cousin?" you questioned still facing the counter as the girl rolled her eyes.
"well yes but i swear i've seen you somewhere before." the blonde huffed in frustration and you sagged a little in relief as your name was called.
"let me guess. in your dreams?" you chuckled, stepping forward to grab your coffee and the small paper bag, good mood returning at the overwhelming scent of the croissant which was toasted, warm and calling your name.
"look. you're not unattractive but the whole 'oh i know you!' thing? it doesn't work. really, do yourself a favor and get a new tactic!" you shook your head with a slight smile, leaving the blonde gobsmacked as you moved past her and shuffled your way out of the cafe.
only if you'd just waited another thirty seconds, you'd have heard her own coffee's called out, all under the name leah.
again a couple of months passed and the coffee shop interaction disappeared from your mind, alessia laughing about it with you a week later teasing that even if you didn't date boys you couldn't avoid shitty pick up lines.
you didn't run into leah again until the very first friendly leading up to englands home euros run where they beat belgium 3-0. you'd been sat with everyone in the family and friends section, wedged between gio and your own older brother leo. the rhyming names in which you and alessia had teased them for for years.
naturally after the game and the crowd had cleared everyone was mingling with their families, and you'd been so busy laughing at alessia's brothers taking the piss out of her for having kept count of how many times she tripped over in the game you missed a familiar blonde spot you across the room.
however you were made aware of her presence around a half an hour later as your family had started to break off into groups, all headed to a local restaurant for a nice meal to celebrate alessia and everyone being together again.
"want a lift?" alessia offered twirling her keys around on her finger as she finished saying goodbye to a few of the girls. "yes but i'd also like to arrive to dinner alive." you sighed as the girl scoffed and hit you on the shoulder.
"well i'm your last option so you can walk if you'd prefer piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed teasingly, pinching your cheek as your eyes narrowed and you shoved her taller form away.
"alessia. you promised you'd stop calling me that." "i did, but i've changed my mind now. it brings nonna so much joy...i'd like to also feel that joy." "would you also like to feel my fist against your cheek?" "aw you're so cute, piccoli ravioli!"
"i hate you." you sighed in defeat unable to muster the energy for a proper comeback as your cousin only grinned and waved goodbye to mary over your shoulder.
exchanging goodbyes with ella and promising you'd come visit manchester soon you turned to follow after your cousin and her long legs which were already halfway across the room when there was a tap on your shoulder.
"you look really familiar. have we met before?"
"you." you realized quickly, eyes widening at the smug grin on the familiar blondes face who stood before you, clad in the same england tracksuit your cousin was wearing which could only mean one thing.
"you mean you're-" "yes i am, and you are someones cousin. alessia's!" the girl grinned victoriously as you winced a little at your previous interaction.
"told you it wasn't a pick up strategy." the blonde beamed even brighter, rocking back and forth on her heels and shoving her hands into her pockets.
"well you could have just asked!" you rolled your eyes at her smugness. "i did and you bit my head off!" the blonde huffed in defense. "i mean directly. like 'oh i think you might be related to someone i play football with'." you mocked in an attempt at her accent.
"i don't talk like that!" "thats what you took away from that?"
"well i didn't want to freak you out." the girl rolled her eyes as you snickered. "and how well did that go? i've been calling you coffee shop creeper when i tell that story, and let me tell you it gets some laughs!" your voice dripped with sarcasm but that just seemed to cause her lips to curl up into a more prominent smile.
"well then you're welcome for the ice breaker, maybe now you'll have some more success reading cues of when someone is trying to chat you up or just asking a curious question. not everyone wants to date you right off the bat, sorry for the let down." the blonde pouted though the sarcasm was obvious in her own tone.
"leah." your own response was cut short as the girl held out her hand, grin still plastered on her face and damp hair pushed to one side of your head as you sized her up for a second before sighing and exchanging your own name.
the interaction was paused as alessia yelled out for you, gesturing from the door and tapping her wrist making you scoff given she was one to talk forever the last to show up at any family event and notoriously known her lateness.
"well leah, i'm glad we cleared this up. good game!" you smiled sincerely for the first time and leah felt her stomach flip as you turned to head over to your cousin.
"wait! can i get your number?" you glanced back in surprise to the blonde who shrugged at your raised eyebrow. "only following your advice and asking directly!" leah teased with a smirk that you couldn't lie and say wasn't a little endearing.
"fine, but just so you know i will be saving your contact as coffee shop creeper."
~
years down the track and the coffee shop creeper charm had won you over, you were very happily in a long term relationship and a few months ago had taken the next step of moving in together.
with alessia now living in london too it meant the pair of you were near inseparable much to both leahs delight and frustration that your cousin loved to invite herself over, often interrupting date night.
you'd been by leahs side throughout her injury, sticking by her through the highs and lows, the lashing out, the icing out, the apologies and the crying and eventually, the peace and the healing.
you'd be lying if you said that despite how clearly proud of her you were, you missed having leah around as much now she was medically cleared and back fit and fighting for her beloved arsenal.
date nights were often forgotten, leah hanging back in the gym to do some extra work or to meet one on one with the physios ensuring her recovery was still right on track.
despite your own studies you made sure to be at every single game each weekend if leah was playing or not. but when she used to greet you afterwards with a bear hug and a sneaky kiss, whisking the pair of you away back home for a night of takeaway and horrendously cheesy rom coms, had disappeared as she instead spent time looking back on game footage with the head defensive coach or watching at home on her own ipad, normally requesting some space to do so.
but as always, you knew what this meant to her. football wasn't just leah's passion it was her life, and you wouldn't be the person to stand in the way of her achieving everything she wanted to and more, you were always her biggest cheerleader.
there was an international camp coming up and you knew that was her next goal, her focus narrowed down to have her name on that squad list her sole vision for the next few weeks, and of course as usual you'd been nothing but supportive of her.
but you had your own milestones incoming, your own goals to lock in on and finalizing your thesis was one of the last. leah had of course showered you with praise and attention and affection that night and you felt like things had started to slip back where they left off.
but then a few days later and again you were left sat at the dining room table alone on date night, reading a book and looking longingly over to the door awaiting the jingle of your lovers keys in its lock, but by the time it came you were long asleep in bed, leahs dinner left wrapped in cling film in the fridge, untouched and discarded by you that next morning.
as much as you put on a brave face, there was always someone who saw through any attempt at a wall you threw up for your own defense, and that was your cousin.
it had taken a little bit of clever reverse psychology and a mountain of carbs in the form of your favorite pasta dish but eventually alessia had you opening up about feelings you'd pushed down and down and down.
having known you longer and family meaning everything to alessia you knew the blonde would take your side, not that there was even an argument or 'sides' to be taken at all. but also always level headed and your go to for advice your entire life you took on board what she had to say.
she encouraged you to open up to leah and talk everything out, urging that the older girl was clearly head over heels for you and likely didn't even realise her actions were making you feel like this.
alessia cautioned that the longer you let these feelings sit the bigger chance they could begin to turn into resentment, to fester away and become much more negative, eating away at you piece by piece, the more likely that leah would continue on forward blindly, unaware of your feelings of neglect and you could both wind up hurt.
you wished you'd listened to her.
finally a week later your final hurdle arrived, your graduation.
given it was quite the extensive class you'd been apart of you only had a small handful of tickets to extend, but of course your cousin and your girlfriend had received their invitations weeks ago.
alessia had taken you out shopping a few days ago to find a dress, leah very kindly offering to come but you could see the slight grimace on her face at the thought and dismissed it with a smile, thanking her with a soft kiss for offering.
you needed to arrive earlier than your family, so alessia had texted leah the night before offering to pick her up and carpool. your girlfriend however assumed the blonde had meant a lift to training that next morning and declined, advising she would make her own way.
you'd also of course spoken about your nerves for tomorrow, leah only half listening as she studied the training footage she'd requested on her ipad, assuring everything would be fine and kissing your forehead as you hummed and settled down in bed beside her.
you were used to falling asleep first, back turned to your girlfriend as her fingers drummed away against her screen, wishing for nothing more than the nights where leah would be pressed up against you.
where she was present, involved, attentive. but again you chose not to mention it, afraid she'd take your feelings of neglect for neediness and the voices in your head warned it would mean your blonde lover would pull away even further out of reach.
it wasn't unusual for you to be up and gone when leah woke for trainings some mornings, the early bird out of the pair of you you often loved a morning run to clear your head, having long given up trying to convince your sleep loving bed hogging girlfriend to join you.
so she thought nothing of it when the time ticked by and still you hadn't returned, chalking it up to you maybe going for breakfast afterwards with a friend.
if she'd been paying attention when she raced out to her car, piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and her shoes in hand she might have noted your car was gone too.
leah was so wrapped up in training preparing for this weeks game, knowing sarina would be there to watch, she hadn't even tweaked your cousins absence, missing the flittering conversations that alessia had a family commitment.
never having her phone on her during training, leah was surprised to check it after showering to see an abundance of missed calls, messages and facetime attempts from a handful of different people.
"what the fuck?" the blonde mumbled, muttering her goodbyes to her teammates as she made her way quickly out of colney and sat down in her car, deciding to just start from the last missed call she had which was from her mum.
the girl couldn't even get a word in to ask what had happened before amanda was speaking, exhaling in relief at her daughters contact popping up on her phone.
“finally! I understand you might not have been allowed your phone for a face time during the ceremony but you better have some photos and videos to send me." amanda laughed, leahs frown only deepening but again she couldn't get a word in.
"god i bet she looked beautiful, she's such a gorgeous girl i've always said that! but now with a doctorate. oh leah did you cry? i bet your brother you'd cry!" amanda laughed as leah opened and closed her mouth in confusion.
"sorry, mum what are you on about?" leah finally managed to speak, a brief pause of silence on the other end. "fine so you didn't cry! you are a softie though bubba you can't deny me that. but i'm with your grandma so send me some photos at least to show her!" amanda encouraged as leahs eyebrows furrowed.
“sorry i'm a bit lost here. photos of what mum?” "the graduation of course, what else?" "whose graduation? you're not making any sense."
there was a few beats of silence, amanda having moved away for a moment to somewhere a bit more private.
"leah if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.” her mum warned seriously, tone shifting as leah scoffed. "of course its not a joke! i don't know what you're on about with this gradua-" but the words died in her mouth as finally things seemed to click.
"oh no no no fucking hell please no!” leah panicked, putting the phone down on her centre console as her chest tightened and her heart began to race.
"leah catherine williamson. please tell me you didn't forget your own girlfriends graduation ceremony." amanda spoke much more quietly, disbelief evident in her voice as leah fumbled around, knowing it was in here somewhere.
then she found it, the invitation.
you'd both been in the car when you'd shown it to her, leah having picked you up from a friends house where you'd had a few too many drinks for her to want you in an uber, smiling in amusement as you toddled your way down the driveway to her.
she hadn't seen you all day but the moment she'd gotten you safely in the car you'd presented her with the small slip of paper, leah's eyes widening in pride for a moment before her lips were showering every inch of your face in kisses as you'd laughed and shoved her off.
but the melodic sound of your laughter was a stark comparison to the stuffy horrendous silence which filled her car now as leah stared in both horror and disgust at the date on the paper clenched tightly in her fist.
"mum i need to go."
#woso community#woso#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#leah williamson imagine
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Hello, I have a request. How about Aaron going costume shopping and Aaron loses her FOR A MINUTE before he finds her where all the princess and fairy costumes are. Like she is completely mesmerized by costumes that she doesn’t notice Aaron picking her up and saying “I’m reconsidering making you a leash kid, you know” but he doesn’t really mean it and she’s just pointing at a costume “I want this one, daddy!”
jumpscares
i changed this up a tiny bit but the overall concept is still there <33 cw; fem!reader, protective girl dad!aaron (small angst), jack calls reader mom, references to your usual cm violence, halloween and fluff!! wc; 1k
"Dad, c'mon." Jack whined in slight impatience and excitement, prying the door open and hanging back slightly on the handle.
"We can only move so fast bud." Aaron responded, maintaining his current pace. We as in Ellie. Her tiny legs limited her speed, she was practically skipping to keep up with just him. "The costumes aren't going anywhere."
With the holiday quickly approaching and Jack's insistent worries the cool costumes will be gone soon - while you ran necessary errands of your own, he had been tasked with taking the kids to the Halloween store.
Upon entering, Aaron lost Ellie's hand almost immediately as she halted, causing it to slip abruptly from his grasp.
She was frozen in place with her gaze directed forward, keeping a generous distance from the frightful animatronics greeting the three of them at the entrance.
A scowl was on her face; it didn't appear she wasn't necessarily scared, but a mix of disgust and worry were vividly present instead.
"They're not real sweetheart." Aaron tried to reassure, his gaze softening. "They're just decorations."
"I don't like that one." Ellie grabbed his hand, using her other to point at the menacing, horrific clown. "He looks mean."
"He does, doesn't he?" Aaron agreed, his mouth drawing into a pensive line as he played along. "But that's okay. They're meant to be for fun."
"They're not very fun."
The three began wandering through the display of frightful animatronics, led by Jack, a good idea in theory. Jack disciplinarily left Aaron's mouth a few times, as he attempted to get his sister to step on the sensors in order to get spooked.
Ellie ended up in his hold, gripping onto the collar of his t-shirt while Jack indulged himself in getting delightfully jumpscared. She merely watched, each burst of sound causing her to scoot closer into her father, more like her shield.
"Alright, let's find what we came here for." Aaron placed Ellie down, Jack beginning to browse as they reached the costumes. "It is a school night. We can't be out too late."
Selecting a costume, or even brainstorming an idea was bound to a lengthy task, the two of them utterly indecisive. Ellie adored every costume they passed, had to stop, look and point it out. Jack, on the other hand, was pursuing a more silent, observational strategy.
"Anything sticking out?"
"Maybe Spiderman?"
"You never stick to Spiderman." Aaron reminded him with a small smile, the fond memory of when Jack dressed up as him coming to mind - easily within his top five Dad moments of all time.
"Yeah... so maybe not that." Jack breathed out a huff, his eyes continuing to peer around. "Or we can all be superheroes." He poked an adult Batman costume, causing it to sway. "You can be this, and then Mom can be Wonder Woman or something."
Aaron nodded slowly, although he personally didn't plan on dressing up. But could he be persuaded by you and the kids? Maybe. "That could be fun."
"And then Ellie could be Spidergirl-"
Speaking of Ellie, she had grown suspiciously quiet - her chatter stopping altogether. Aaron's eyes shot down, only to find Ellie not besides him.
Jack was the one who verbalized it, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "Where'd Ellie go?"
Panic immediately swept through him, his heart rate heightening and his body succumbing to a numbing freeze. Fuck.
Suddenly, he didn't know whether or not his knowledge of child abductions were an advantage or disadvantage; knowing how to act quickly, but also the unfortunate outcomes.
his mind instantly shot to the conversations he had with victim's familiies with what felt like daily. The scenario had turned- he was in their shoes. And just as they all stated in their interviews: He should've been paying closer attention. He only looked away for a minute. He knew these things - why did he look away?
Attempting to push the statistics in the back of his mind, he was on the move, Jack following right at his heels.
"Ellie?"
Luckily the fear was short lived; she was two aisles over, captivated by the girliest costumes one could imagine, very Ellie-esque.
"Eleanor." Aaron breathed out in relief as he saw his piggytail-headed daughter, sweeping her right off her feet again. "You know better than to wander off."
"I wanna be this." Ellie pried a princess costume off the rack, Aaron paused as he lifted her so she could remove it successfully. "Can I Daddy? I really wanna."
"Well, let's make sure it's your size." He took it, doublechecking and allowing his heart rate to calm down. Upon confirmation, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you want to be this? Or do you want to be a superhero with Jack?"
"I wanna be a princess." Ellie insisted, a pleading tone within her voice. "Pretty please?"
"Sure, if that's what you want. We'll have to find you a crown too, or use one from home, it doesn't seem to be included." She nodded as Aaron tucked the packaging under his elbow, allowing him to hold both it and her. However, his demeanor switched over to one more serious. "But hey, look at me please."
Her adjacent brown eyes met his own; a touch of fault, and sincereness. She knew she had disobeyed in one way or another. And whenever she did, it was written all over on her face.
"No running off, okay?" He instructed sternly, but gently. "It's really important I can always see you, and you can always see me. We don't want you getting lost, yeah?"
She shook her head. "That would be bad."
"Very bad. Mom would not be happy with me if I came home without you." Aaron affirmed, eyebrows raised. "Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes we do." She replied cheerily, oblivious to the heart attack she had just given her father. "No running away."
"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, exhaling and the tension in his shoulders alleviating. Ellie was fine. No need for further panicking. Everything was fine.
And Jack, ever the dear, comically inputted, a witty grin plastered on his face. "Maybe Ellie should be the Flash instead."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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candle shopping
trafalgar law x strawhat!reader
smut! a lil ooc rough law hehe
nsfw, wc: 3.4k, lowercase intended !
a boring day on the sunny draws law to go ‘candle shopping’ from your personal collection. it accidentally escalates to something deeper than meant to be
being stuck on a ship in the middle of the ocean with the strawhats was not the most ideal for law. they were loud, obnoxious, and have no concept of personal space. law would often find himself locked away in rooms to find some peace and quite from the hectic crew.
the only strawhat he could bear being around was you. you had the personality to match with the others humors, but he would discover a completely different side whenever he found himself on the deck at night starring at you while you rambled about how endless the sea was. he could have spent the time lost away in books, but in reality he didnt mind exchanging his time with you. that was more than he could say about any of the strawhats.
law knew something was wrong with him when he looked forward to seeing you during breakfast. the way you appeared in his view made made his mind generate hundreds of thoughts at once. sometimes he would curse himself and avoid looking at you all together. this tactic didnt last long since you were always asking him something.
“hey law do you need any sugar for your coffee?” you held out the small container with sugar cubes
he never added sugar in his coffee, but how could he resist when you asked him so earnestly? how could he say no when you made the effort to think about him?
he took two and added them to his cup as he watched you make jokes with luffy about eating sea monsters for lunch. he was starring at you again before he realized it.
you on the other hand were no stranger to how the surgeon was the slightest bit friendlier to you. he didnt immediately leave when you approached him like when others did. hell, he actually made an effort to converse with you when you said something.
during one uneventful afternoon laying on the lawn you decided to check on your friends to see if they were doing anything interesting. you found luffy, usopp, and chopper fishing at the side of the sunny. their activity seemed more boredom-inducing than yours. you found zoro doing his usual 2000 pushups which were apart of his training routine. you found sanji prepping vegetables for his next meal. you saw nami and robin enjoying the weather laying on chairs on the deck. you found brook cleaning his violin while being told an ailen story by franky. everyones activities just seemed uneventful. you thought of your next stop on your checking-in-with-friends train.
knowing where to find the last subject, you headed to the library of the sunny. you found law nose-deep in some mundane book.
“he’s probably the most uninteresting person to check up on.” you thought to yourself. law heard the door open. he simply didn’t care enough to look up to know who entered, or give a thought of acknowledgment when the unknown person approached him. he only withdraws from his book when you sit next to him asking how his day was. you rambled on about how bored you were and how the crew had nothing fun to do.
at this point law would usually get up and go somewhere else secluded to finish his book. he wanted to, but something was holding him back. maybe it was the way you talked, or the way your hair fell perfectly over your shoulders, or how your confidence radiated when you held his eye contact. he would never admit how he would give anything just to hear you say his name on a loop. it made him feel special.
and yet he pushed those feelings deep into his abyss when he replied, trying to sound as cold as possible, “i honestly dont care. im busy so leave me alone” law was expecting you to be offended or leave. the last thing he thought he would hear was you bursting into laughter.
‘did i say something embarrassing?’ he thought to himself trying to retrace his words exactly.
you shook your head and tossed his book to the side while replying,
“all this reading has made you become the most boring person on this ship! who cares about some variant-strand of a virus whose last infection was recorded 200 years ago?” he kept a cool expression on his face.
you were desperate to find something entertaining to do. realizing how dimly lit the library could be you thought back to your candle stash you kept which had varieties of scents.
“hey, do you like candles?” you asked the raven haired man.
law raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “candles? why would you ask that?”
you lit up finally finding an activity to pass the time with. you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the girls cabin, “lets take you candle shopping!”
this was laws first time entering the girls cabin of the ship. he never had a reason to. he was quite surprised to see how much more spacious, cleaner, and taken care of it was compared to the boys. your bed was made, and it looked like heaven to the heavily sleepy-induced doctor who constantly disregarded his insomniac habits.
you rummaged under your bed and pulled out a bag with different colors and sizes of candles. you put the bag on your bed and pulled out candles one by one.
law stared in an utter state of confusion. you popped the top off of one and handed it to him, “smell this and see if you like it”
at first the doctor quietly refused, trying to hand the candle back so he could go back to reading. you huffed and dragged him to sit on your bed, “if youre gonna coop yourself in that library all day like a chicken you might as well take a candle with you. its so dimly lit i dont get how you can read at night. now find one that you like! dont worry i wont charge you.” you winked playfully at the doctor
law fought the blood threatening to rise to his cheeks. he gave up and started ‘candle shopping’ through your pile. he smelt some that were vanilla heavy, fruit heavy, lavender heavy, tobacco heavy (he hated that one specifically), and more. they all left him feeling unimpressed.
you thought for what the man sitting next to you would enjoy. you grabbed another candle that was a shade of deep green. you read the label and handed it to him. “this one has notes of deep forest, sandalwood, and fresh spring water.” law smelt it not expecting much.
he was pleasantly surprised to find how he actually liked this scent. you were excited to see if he found a candle that fit his interests, “do you like that one? should i light it for you??”
he saw at your excitement radiating off of you. how could he say no when you went to the extent to find him something he liked? how could he say no when you cared this much about him? he silently handed the candle back.
you cleared away the other rejected candles and got off your bed. you ordered law to lay down as you lit the candle carefully, “you need to relax to be able to fully enjoy the energy it offers! try to get comfortable.”
he was astonished at your directness, “you want me to.. lay down on your bed? it’s made and ill just get it messy.”
you shook your head and pushed him to lay down. you carefully placed the candle on the floor right next to the bed, “close your eyes and really try to relax trafalgar”
he felt a warm sensation spread in his stomach when you said his name. he was left with no choice but to close his eyes. the scent of the wax filled the room gradually. it wasn’t a scent that was overpowering. he could still smell you on your sheets with the candle’s notes lingering in the background.
you stay quite as you watched the once stoic man fade into a state of relaxation. you were feeling proud of your succession.
law heard footsteps starting to approach the door of the cabin followed by laughter of the other two female members. his once relaxed state quickly washed away not wanting to be caught. he wasn’t just in the girls cabin. he was in your bed. who knows what the strawhats would think of him? he gave you a look of alarm.
as the cabin knob twisted you quickly jumped into bed and pulled the covers up. you were on your side with your back facing the door trying your best to conceal the tattooed man. your legs were practically tangled with each other. mere centimeters was the distance between your faces. you shushed him quietly and pushed him slightly lower while hiding his hat under your bed.
the door opened as the two females walked in. nami saw you in bed and wondered what was wrong, “hey y/n is everything okay?”
nico robin hummed, “its not like you to be in bed in the middle of the day”
you faked a cough trying to convince them of you feeling unwell, “i just wanted to lay down for a bit.”
nami replies, “if you want me to ask sanji to make you some soup then let me know”
you okay’d a response back to her.
law wished he activated his powers before becoming stuck in this predicament. he wished he never got sucked into your side quest. he wish he could be able to say no to you. maybe then he wouldn’t have been stuck hiding in bed with you. his hand was naturally placed on your waist as you had left your hand in his hair after trying to push him down. the position was dangerous for him. he looked up at you while you flashed apologetic looks.
you finally noticed your hand slightly tangled in his hair. you tried to move it to make the position less awkward. moving it a few centimeters before opting to return it to its original position to avoid attention being drawn to you. the feeling of your fingers trying to move yet returning back to him made his mind blank out. his eyes turned half lidded as the forestry scent was of the candle made him slightly sink into you. dangerously closer than ever.
you took in every feature of the man right before you. you quietly moved your thumb from the roots of his hair to trace his facial features softly. you dont know what came over you. you ran your thumb lightly across his eyebrow, his nose bridge, then cheek bone, and finally to his lip. you hesitate, resting your thumb on his lower lip, not daring to move it any further.
laws gaze had changed from its previous cold appearance. he looked different from before, as if he wanted you to continue. he needed you to admire his features just like how he admired yours every moment he saw you. both your desperations climbed in attempt to keep quiet. his hold on your waist pulled you ever so slightly closer to him. enough hoping you wouldn’t notice. you continued to slowly trace his lower lip, pulling down on it slightly to see how far he would really let you take it.
he shot you a dangerously possessive gaze. it was his turn to return the act. he slowly ran his once resting hand down your waist and down your thigh. your curves fitting perfectly in his hand. he gripped your thigh slightly, which earned a surprised gasp from you.
nami looked back over, completely oblivious to the unsuspecting man in bed with you, “are you sure you’re okay y/n..?”
you responded quicker than you liked to admit, trying to hide the panic in your voice, “im fine really! just a bit of a headache i guess. ill be fine once i take a nap.” you glanced back down at the raven-haired man who pressed a ghosting kiss against your thumb.
you felt your heart skip a beat as your body’s heat started to rise. you couldn’t believe how daring he’s trying to show you he could be. any moment other than now would’ve been better to see.
you try to move your legs to untangle them from the man in front of you. you bit your lip as you felt your thigh brush harshly against law in between his legs. you freeze while you feel him harden slightly; member pressing back onto your thigh.
law tried his best for fight these sensations, but it was difficult when all you did was light his body on fire every time you moved. the warm sensation in his stomach from earlier growing into a blaze. he mouthed words at you carefully quiet, ‘don’t move’
you smirk once you realize the position you were in. you were towering over law as he looks at you with eyes which showed slight desperation. you kept tracing his lower lip as you continued to push your thigh against his growing member. you wanted to be the sole reason he fought to make any noise in that moment.
law cursed you silently in his head. he gripped your thigh while digging his fingertips into your skin. he shot you a now threatening look. knowing what you were doing and how you deliberately were doing it to get a kick out of him drove him insane.
he could easily take control of the power dynamic now in place if it hadn’t been for the women still in the room. he knew you were taking advantage of the situation. he fought a growl as you trailed your hand from his lip to the collar of his shirt. playing with it innocently while devilishly tormenting the man with your thigh drove you to feel your stomach blaze as well.
the two women bid their farewells as they left the cabin shutting the door behind them. you felt a sense of relief wash over you, but were pulled back into reality when law grabs your ass while slightly grinding himself on your thigh to feel some relief.
he spoke words of venom to you, “you’re gonna regret this y/n..”
you tilt his chin up to you, reminding him of the power dynamic still in place, “who says i don’t want this?” your words sweet like honey.
law looks back at the door to make sure no more disturbances would bother his current moment with you. he flipped you onto your back and towered over you. hands between your head to support himself.
he leaned down to your ear and spoke while smirking, “now its my turn to see how quiet you can be”
your eyes widen once you see the position you were in. the blaze in your body abandoned any rational thinking you had at that moment. you pulled the man down into a sloppy kiss as you tug up on his shirt desperately trying to expose his body.
he pulled the shirt off mid kiss then worked on taking this belt off. you whined for him to hurry while the desperate between your legs painstakingly grew with each passing second. you both pushed the rest of your clothes off in an attempt to not waste anymore time.
law grabbed his member with a slight groan, “look at what you did to me y/n..”
you couldnt help but feel proud of being able to draw this side of law out. not too long ago he was a mysterious identity on the ship. now he was just mere seconds away from fucking your mind out of you.
he opened pushed open your legs and ripped your panties to the side to give himself more accessibility. you pulled him closer in a desperate attempt to get his member in you. he chuckled deeply at your failed attempt.
he flashed his golden eyes up and down your body, “i should make you wait for being such a tease..”
you shook your head fast. ecstasy completely taking over all your sense, “i didn’t mean to do all tha-“
“you still did it y/n” he shot back lowly, “i want you to beg for me” he smiled sadistically down at you.
desperation on your mind left you no other choice, “please law..”
he raised a brow unimpressed, “thats it? i know you can give me more than y/n” he slowly moved the head of his member up and down your wet folds to tease you.
you shut your eyes as you spewed a line of noncomprehensive begs. you didn’t even understand what you were saying at that point.
once satisfied with your obvious desperation on display law slowly pushed himself into you. the way he disappeared into you made his stomach do flips. your warmth completely captivating him.
you let out a quiet moan as you grip his tattooed biceps. you begged him for more.
every whine and beg drove law further off the edge. granting your wish he started his pace. it was a slow motion which picked up into a faster, harsher rhythm.
law was fascinated with how well your body took him in. every time he pulls to almost abandon your hole you take him back in fully. your moans starting to pick up as the man above you tries to fuck sense back into you, “you think you can pull stunts like that and get away with it?” he grunts in your ear, trying to suppress his own moans.
the slapping of skin becoming louder with every snap of laws hips hitting you. his rhythm, once steady and strong, starts to falter and get sloppy. your own blaze turning into a burning fire reaching the depths of your stomach. you slapped a hand over your mouth to mask the loud moans escaping your lips. law pushes your hand away and pulls you into a messy kiss while taking in every moan you gave to him. you dig your nails into his shoulders indicating you were climbing fast to your high.
the man above you fucks into you with a rough pace. he made the mistake of looking down at your eyes. the way they glossed over with ecstasy and your eyebrows taking shape of desperation made law lose his rhythm completely. he just vigorously pushed into you chasing his own high. he wanted to take a picture of your sight before him. he knew the way you looked at him would burn into his memory forever. you moaned his name while repeating how close you were. unable to suppress his own moans he started to repeat your name back to you. both your names rolling off each others tongues so effortlessly.
the knot in your stomach pulled so tightly. you felt the harsh waves of ecstasy hit you as your orgasm forces itself onto you. you dig your nails into law while he covers your mouth with his hand. the sight of you moaning mindlessly because of him was enough for his knot to pull. he knew he was dangerously close as well. he continued to fuck into you to chase his high. the overstimulation causing your eyes to roll back slightly.
the sight caused laws own orgasm to hit him faster than he imagined. he pulled out quickly and released himself onto your stomach. he collapsed next to you as you both pant to regain your breaths. he stares at your messy hair, plump lips, and how your chest rises and falls. he’d be lying to himself he if he didn’t want to experience seeing you like this all the time. with sweat glistening both your tired bodies he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him.
he mumbles to you tiredly, “you dont know how long ive been wanting to do that..”
you giggle as you ease into him, “then you should’ve done it earlier”
the crackling of the candle returns you to your senses, “its good we lit a candle before hand..” you laugh tiredly at the ironic situation.
he rolls his eyes while the corner of his lips tug up slightly. he grabbed your chin and kissed you passionately to make up for all the sloppy kisses he gave earlier(he just wants your lips on his any way possible). you cup his cheek and deepen the kiss while smiling. law feels you smiling into the kiss, and it causes him to smile a bit more than he usually would.
even he’d admit that ‘candle shopping’ maybe wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
you can find pt.2 here!
#one piece#op#one piece strawhats#one piece x reader#onepiece imagines#law fluff#law one piece#law x reader#law x y/n#law x you#trafalgar d law x you#trafalgar op#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar law#law smut#law x reader fluff#law x reader smut#trafalgar law smut
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Tormented Spirit | 2
Part 1 2 3
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, smut (piv, loss of virginity, fingering, semi-public sex, Daemon talking you through it), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, mentions/depictions of death/suicidal ideation/murder, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: i am surprised I got as many comments as I did on chapter 1 🥺🫶 it's not that I think my writing is bad... Well... Idk it felt aimless when I started so I am grateful for the positive reinforcement. 👉👈 I am once again asking for more pls comment n reblog I would love u forever if u did | cross posted on ao3
Tagging: @arabellasleopardcoat
Daemon heads to your chambers, eager to shake you awake and ruin your morning once more. When he arrives to the room, he stops in his tracks, disappointed to see you were risen. That is, until he realizes the state you were in.
You roused long before the sun had and could not find sleep no matter how badly you searched. You decided to draw yourself a warm bath in hopes of finding sleep in the tub; you only find more restlessness and simply accept your fate.
You hear Daemon's entrance and turn to him from the vanity you were wallowing. You were half dressed. Your corset was undone and you had given up on braiding the sides of your head. You smile weakly at him, "good morrow."
Nothing about your tired, sullen eyes agreed with that, and it irritates him to know that you're one of those people. Pretenders.
"Well, finish up then," Daemon furrows his brows, "get dressed. We have yet to accomplish our task."
You mimic his expression, brushing your dark hair back, "task?"
He rolls his eyes, "I do not believe yesterday counts as an introduction."
Upon realizing he meant the introduction to Caraxes, your body tenses. You look sick. You stand to try and convince him out of it, but Daemon reaches you before you can get on your feet. He places a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. Your heart thunders when he brushes your hair to one shoulder. He secures your dress from behind, and your breath grows heavy as you watch him from the mirror.
"It is not so bad, riding a dragon," the prince says to plant a false sense of trust in you, "who knows? You might enjoy it."
There is an unnatural warmth that spills across your form when your husband then completes your braids. He weaves in a manner far gentler than Gwayne ever has. It makes your lips part.
He brings you to your feet. Daemon takes in your expression, lips curling slightly, "there you are, wife."
Your brows knit.
He knew his artificial gentleness has you off-guard. There is no better moment to have you do his bidding than now.
One might be surprised to know that Caraxes actually enjoyed having you on his back, as did Daemon, not because they suddenly liked you— gods no, but because the sound of your screams were oh-so satisfying.
You could do little else but release cries of terror as you clung to your husband from behind. Daemon made it a point to do flips and all sorts of unnecessarily moves whilst flying, hoping your hold would falter. The time you spent in the air felt like eternity. It seemed your husband was set on touring the entire 7 realms.
You never thought you would be so ever happy to see the pit. The pit could not say the same about you however. You spill your guts out to the floor exactly like the first time you were here.
Daemon makes a face. He turns to the keepers and orders them to clean your mess up, lest it get on Caraxes' claw.
Woe is you who is forced to repeat the exact thing the next morning. You could not even plead your case, for your throat was sore. The sound of your screams this time were not as entertaining to Daemon, as your voice is hoarse. At some point, the terror is too great, you cannot scream. Because of this, he cuts the flight short in boredom, excited instead at the promise of watching you suffer through another retch. But, oh, by the gods, were you an inconveniencing woman.
Instead of remaining consistent, you just had to make a show and faint into him, did you?
He could not care less for you, which is why he chucks you off into the arms of a dragon keeper, but the damned old man could no longer carry such a weight, and so he was begrudgingly forced to throw you over his shoulder and bring you to a maester himself.
In truth, he'd all forgotten about his wife fainting until the next morning, when he came to the maester's quarters to ask for something to soothe his hammering head from his heavy drinking the night before. He was, in fact, offended, when the maester insinuated that he had come to check up on his bride.
Before he could give the greying maester a piece of his mind, he hears a terrible voice barking from the ward. Its grating timbre made it clear to Daemon that Lord Hand Cunttower was off on a yapping session again.
He walks deeper into the room. Weeping sounds become audible.
"—no, you do not understand," Otto snaps, hunched over at the side of your bed.
Ah, twas you who was being terrorized.
You dare not turn to your father, for you knew your throat would only tighten more that it already has. You force yourself to take deep breaths, but it's easier said than done. You remain still on the bed you laid on.
"You must sire as many children as your body can take, or you will die," the man says.
But you were dying anyway.
"The process will not be pleasant."
Nothing is pleasant.
"It will hurt-"
Everything hurts.
"-but it is a better fate than-"
"Enough!" you snap, glaring at him with angry, red eyes. You repeat, though your voice is weaker, "enough, enough, eno-"
Otto gravely speaks your name. Your body recognized the danger, but having realized upon waking up to the face of a maester, it mattered little where or who it came from, you were destined to hurt- to die.
"Do not fall complacent be-"
"You are no longer my lord," you quip. Sweat forms on your nape. This is the first time you've ever interrupted your father.
He is gobsmacked. He is bewildered. His back straightens, "what?"
You feel yourself descend into heavy fraught. Your saliva tries to choke you.
"What," he presses, "did you say, girl?"
"You are my father," your voice falters, "but not my lord."
Otto's face warps.
Your breath grows shorter and shorter, "my liege lord is my-" pant "-husband, and what he-" pant "-desires, I will-" pant "-do."
Daemon's ears and brows perk at your misplaced loyalty. Part of him wants to laugh out loud and make himself known, but then he sees, even from where he stood, how it got Otto twisted. He chuckles to himself instead.
Your father enunciates as though he means to stab you with them, "you stupid fucking whore."
You crumble like chalk. You fall into another round of body arresting tremors. Your chest is tight and you screw your eyes painfully shut. It becomes apparent to Daemon, as it would anyone who'd witness, where your condition sourced. Otto grabs your shoulders, "you know nothing of-" but then recoils.
Daemon shoves him away, glaring as he says, "unhand her."
Otto manages to balance himself, but he looks as though the veins on his temples were about to pop. He clenches his jaw, "I am speaking to my daughter."
"You mean at her," his silver hair slips over his shoulder as he turns to you, "she does not look like she can hold conversation."
"This is personal matter," Otto steps forward.
"Mmm," Daemon turns back to him, "I do say, I am glad to have interrupted," he shifts on his leg, linking his fingers together, "a dutiful husband should know all personal matters of his wife. Don't you agree?"
Though you were still wrestling with yourself, you heard every word. You knew if you did not interject, they will fight each other for your carcass. You feel lightheaded, but you force yourself to open your eyes and speak.
Of course, the only sound you manage to make is a strangled and pained one.
Otto averts his attention to you, and tries to come to your side.
Daemon steps in front of him and tilts his head back, "oh... I would adore it if you give me a reason to kill you."
You choke out, "Daemon."
Your father stiffens as he looks past the said man to inspect you, missing the way said man smirks. Otto turns back to Daemon, feeling bile spread in his mouth as the prince says, "see. She does not want you."
Otto's lips curl and his hands ball into fists.
Your husband waves a hand, "go away. You're clearly upsetting her."
Otto does the most to remain calm, "she is my da-"
"She is my wife," Daemon snaps, imposing upon him.
You gulp with difficulty as you catch the way your father's jaw clenches. You force yourself to sit up and open your mouth to speak, but everyone's attention is averted to the Kingsguard that walks into the room.
Daemon's forehead curls at the Cargyll knight, "my prince. Lord Hand."
"Which one are you?" asks the prince.
"Arryk, my prince."
"State your business, Arryk."
"I-"
"I requested a ward for the princess," Lord Hand answers instead.
Daemon makes a face at him and chuckles dryly under his breath.
Arryk looks between the two again then slowly continues, "I and my brother have been awarded the honor of serving ward to the Princess of Dragonstone. I take first watch today."
Daemon chuckles again, "a bit late, aren't you?"
The white cloak stiffens then bows, "I was just given word this hour."
"Hmm. Well, Arryk," he motions, "why don't you go escort the Lord Hand out of the room before someone dies."
He stiffens again, but turns to the said man nonetheless. He does not question it and merely does what was instructed.
Or at least tries to.
"I do not trust you with my daughter's well-being," Otto steps forward, pointing a finger to the ground, "you are the very reason she is in that bed."
Daemon gasps dramatically. At this point, you finally had enough wits about you to speak, "please-" but your voice is easily drowned out however.
"Do you not remember thanking my brother for the, what was it," the prince pretends to think, "joyous union? Or would you like to watch me stake my claim upon he—"
Otto's face twists in horror and repulsion, but that is not why Daemon's words are cut short. It is because of the cold, clammy, trembling hand that takes his own that he looks down. He watches as you sigh out, "leave us, father."
The said man turns to you in grave offence. In your fear, you do not notice the betrayal that is mixed with it. His anger flares and he scoffs. He gives you one last look, and you knew exactly it was just that. This would be last time he would ever look upon you. When he storms away, you feel it in your chest: this is the last time you will ever call him father. You were forsaken, truly forsaken.
Otto is seen out by Arryk.
Your hand slips from Daemon's, as you no longer had the strength. You muster all your remaining energy to reach the drink propped on your bedside table. It was a futile attempt though, as instead of grasping it, you knock it over, which only leads you into another fit of tears.
Daemon curses and shakes his foot that's gotten soaked. He did mean to snap at you for it, but you were already clearly suffering. Your breathing is short and it seemed like you were mumbling something.
He hunches over in an attempt to hear you, "what?"
It takes a myriad of repetitions for him to realize you were apologizing.
His face contorts, "gods," what pathetic creature had he been given to?
Daemon's upper lip curls and he can no longer bear the sound of your whining any further. He calls for the maester, asking for another cup of water because you had knocked over your own. Just as the maester goes off to get you another drink, he remembers he came here for his own affliction because his head begins to hammer again. He rubs his temples and sits on the vacant bed besides yours.
"Here, my prince," the maester says upon arrival, "milk of the poppy enough for the both of you."
Daemon squints as the man places a tray on your bedside table. Daemon is handed a cup first, but does not drink it until after he watches you be helped to drink your own fill. After, the maester promptly leaves with a curt nod. The drink does not take effect on you until after Daemon finishes his own
Your voice shakes, "t-thank you."
Daemon puts his cup down.
"You did not have to come," you say softly.
"Do not flatter yourself," he scoffs, "I did not come for you. I came for my headache."
"Yet it remains," you turn to him, face tight and gleaming from all the tears you've shed, "you did not have to come."
He stares at you for a moment. You looked so frail, so devoid of hope. Truly, death would be mercy to you at this point.
Just then, ser Arryk returns. He finally sees you and gives you a deep bow, "princess."
Being addressed as such makes you feel sad... and lonely.
"I am ser Arryk Cargyll. I will be your ward, along with my twin brother, Erryk, who you will meet after my shift." The kingsguard straightens up, "I will do all that I can to ensure your health does not falter and that you are always seen to."
You think of your own twin as you take in the man's features. The idea that your father purposefully chose twin brothers as your ward made you feel sad and sick, but it was hardly Arryk's fault Otto liked mocking you, so you smile at him, "I have a twin."
The man nods, offering you a smile far more genuine than yours, "aye. Ser Gwayne Hightower. He is deft with the short sword."
You turn to your hands, recalling just a few days ago when you had watched him train. Your lips curl upwards, "though, not as good as I."
Daemon pulls his head back, face contorting. He is taken aback when Arryk's sniggers. The latter nods, "perhaps you will show me your tricks, my lady."
There is a twinkle in your eye as you turn back to him, "perhaps."
Daemon raises a brow at the interaction and decides to stand, "come," he reaches a hand to you, "some fresh air would do you good."
Fresh air? Your jaw slacks and you turn to Daemon with a fallen expression. Be as it was, you were no fool. You did not believe your husband had your best interest in mind, and yet, it was not like you had much of a choice. Against yourself, you to take his hand.
He pulls you up and Arryk comes to your side to assist you. He helps you to your feet, hand on your arm and shoulder.
Daemon is annoyed by his fussing. "Yes. Very good, Cargyll. I can manage to bring her to the dragon pit myself."
You close your eyes and sigh. Just as your dreaded.
"Dragon pit?" Arryk repeats.
"Yes. She needs fresh air." The prince narrows his eyes, "do you contest me?"
Arryk releases you and shakes his head, "I would not."
"Good," he motions with nod, "out of the way then."
You see, after being scorched by the fire of your maker— your father, the sight of Caraxes emerging from the depths did not strike as much fear into you as it did before. In fact, the promise of malice from the beast felt... cathartic, and for once, you welcomed Daemon's insistence on being brought to its maw.
You stumbled against Caraxes' scaly cheek. Having done nothing but lay in the maester's chambers, your hair was not tied or braided in any way. As the wind blew, it tickled against the dragon's face. Caraxes did not seem to enjoy the sensation, and so he growled and snapped his teeth.
Daemon was quick to chastise his mount, and for that, he did not realize your lack of self-preservation. Oh, but Caraxes did; he even growled again, only to be met once more by your unflinching demeanor.
Daemon would only realize your change after taking flight and landing on a beach. Upon dismounting, Caraxes takes it upon himself to screech as you hover. The prince doesn't know who is more bewildered, him or his dragon, when you screech back.
Your neck veins pop and spit comes out of your mouth at the intensity of it all. A harsh wind blows your hair and your skirt. You heave after releasing such a harsh noise.
In truth, perhaps Caraxes is more perturbed as, unlike Daemon's who presses forward, the beast pulls back and shakes his head. He bleats as he watches his rider grab your arm.
The prince means to berate you for your insanity, but then, gods, you rather conveniently succumb to another arrest to your heart and lungs. He does not know why he catches you when your legs give in but he knows exactly why he suggests: "get in the water."
You look up at him, your glassy eyes meeting his violet ones.
He lets you crumble to the ground and bends down to undo your dress, "a swim would do you wonders."
"N-no- you will regret-" you sputter.
But Daemon ignores you, not that it took much effort, for you were incoherent soon enough.
He pulls you out of your dress until you're in nothing but your slip. You sob, and he hushes you, assuring he will be by your side. He removes his tunic. Soon, he is dragging you down deeper and deeper, and you are choking and spitting saltwater.
Daemon decides to simply release you and wait until your body floats lifeless. With how you were gasping, it would not take long. He turns his head when his face is splashed by your flailing arms. When he looks back, the water is calm and your body is nowhere to be seen.
... well, that was rather quick.
He waits for a moment, watching bubbles float up. After a while, he purses his lips and decides to go back ashore. He should have done this sooner.
He freezes when you emerge in front of him, pushing your brown hair off your face. He is perturbed by the serenity across your features; it was as though you were reborn.
You sigh, "I told you you would regret it."
Daemon blankly stares at you.
"There is a great river in Oldtown," you wade around, "the water there is not nearly as pleasant or warm as this, but still... swimming was one of the only ways I could calm myself."
His jaw clenches. He does not even try to hide his disappointment.
You lick your lips at it and turn to Caraxes, who was happily soaking in the sun from the sandy shore, "take heart. Your dragon might entertain himself by eating me yet," you turn to him, "or perhaps my Lord Hand will kill me himself."
His face twists, "what?"
You shake your head and roll your eyes.
He pulls his head back, offended and confused by your sudden nerve.
You allow your body to float up in the water, "you need not pretend. I know you long to kill me."
Daemon is insulted by your brashness. He grabs your floating hip and pushes you down until you're once again face to face. Not a semblance of fear is on your features. It only angers him further.
He snaps, "I could have your tongue for that."
He cannot deny the way his stomach rolls when you place your hands by the base of his neck. The complete change in your temperament puts him on edge. Have you been playing him all along?
"Would it not be simpler to have my head?" you speak plainly, as though you were genuinely curious of his response.
His nostrils flare.
Before he can act, you are swimming off. You emerge from the water, dripping wet. Your clothing is sheer and hugs every part of your body, leaving nothing to the imagination. He could not help but look, but then he was sorely insulted all over when you pet Caraxes head and he lets you.
It was a twisted hallucination. He is suddenly reminded of the milk of the poppy he'd drank; you've probably poisoned him and planned all of this with your cunt father like the conniving whore you really were.
You do not hear him emerge, but only know he did because he is upon you. He forces you around through a severe squeeze on your arms, "what is your game, Hightower cunt?!"
Your body seizes, but you do not succumb to the thundering of your heart, as you had just been relaxed.
He shakes you, making you gasp, "SPEAK!"
"There is no game!" you whimper.
He chuckles dryly, shaking you harshly once more "perhaps it should be said that need I no assistance from my dragon to kill you."
A shiver runs down your spine, "please-"
"Then tell me th-"
"-just do it."
The sound of Caraxes huffing brings Daemon back to reality. And yet it takes you speaking, "just kill me," for him to realize you meant exactly what he thought.
He stills where you descend into further torment. He knows then that it is true. There was no plot, or at least not one where this creature of agony could ever oversee. You were calmed by the water, but not cured. Very truly, he thinks again death would be mercy, convenient for him as well. Yet, in his nature, Daemon does opposite of what he is told and pries his hands off. He mutters under his breath, "ao mūdas run," you terrible thing.
You sob, as if you understood him.
You shed tears unlike the others he's witnessed; there is no panic or fear, only pain.
"Surely you agree it is better than living this way."
The clarity of your voice takes him aback. He turns away, uncomfortable of your sudden agency.
"I have been this way since I can remember," you confess, "and they've all have counted my days for just as long."
"Why must I bloody my hands for you?" he squints, "if you despise living so much, do it yourself."
Your laugh is haunting. You shake your head and wipe your face, "I am not as brave as you. I could not even kill the fishes Gwayne caught for me, though I ate them."
Daemon is unmoved, twice so at the mention of your brother.
"And Gwayne..." you sigh, "he would blame himself." You turn to your feet, warmed by the sand beneath it, "I would not do that to him." You shake your head again, "but again, take heart," you smile, "it will happen soon enough."
His forehead curls.
"I can feel it in my gut," you rub your belly, "it is putrid and festering... whatever it is."
He tilts his head, "then do me a favor and wallow in silence—" he walks off, sparing one last glance, "and try scheming with your cunt father somewhere you will not be caught."
You manically laugh and rip at your hair, "he is my illness, if it is not plain to you."
He stops and turns back to you.
"I am the way that I am because I-" you poke your chest, "am he, had he been born a woman." You rub your sternum, "he loathes me because he is I. I am his hair, his nose, his temper, his... weakness, only amplified because I did not inherit his cock.
"When I pray..." you sniffle, "sometimes I think the gods keep me alive for I am his reckoning— that I must torment him for all the years he has tormented others... tormented me."
Daemon watches the salt from your eyes join the salt on your slip. He stares at your pert nipples then watches you chew your lower lip. He licks his own, "did you mean what you told him?"
You watch as he inches closer, "what?"
"That he is no longer your liege lord," he reaches for your arm, "that I am."
"I-"
Daemon pushes the shoulder of your slip dress down.
Your hand darts to his chest, "i-it is the truth."
He hums and tilts his head. You gasp when he kisses your neck. He licks the saltwater off your skin, enjoying the sound you make when his teeth graze you, "very well then."
Goosebumps form when he pulls your skirt up your thighs.
"It would be beneath a prince to withhold aid for such a tormented spirit."
You do not speak for soon his mouth is claiming yours. It is not as horrid as you imagined it would be. You did not think someone who's shown nothing but aggression could behold you so tenderly. You shiver when he continues to rid you of your sopping clothes. When you break away for air, you manage to mutter, "someone c-could see."
Daemon's expression is changed as stares at you and pushes you to the ground. You gasp as you find yourself atop the garbs he already managed to remove. He undoes his breeches, "who? My dragon?"
You do not know if he means Caraxes.
"You are my wife," he drops to his knees, grabbing yours, "the sin lies with the looker," he pushes your legs apart, "not us."
You bite your lips, feeling the the need to repel him, but decide against it. You simply close your eyes and dig your fingers into the sand.
His loins burn at the sound of your sigh. He sinks into you and relishes your submission. He wraps your legs around him and rocks his hips into yours. You mewl and dig into his back. He bites your lobe before whispering, "you belong to me."
You scratch your nails up his back as his rocking hips send bolts of pleasure in your body.
"Say it."
"I-I-" you heave, "belong to you."
He squeezes your thighs, "you are to do what I so desire."
Your gasp softly when he grabs your jaw, making you turn to him.
"-especially if it is against your father, yes?"
You gulp, unable to speak. You simply nod.
Daemon's eyes become hooded. He releases your jaw, claiming your thigh again, "good."
You both remain this way, kissing and rubbing, but then you begin to grow impatient. You bring your mouth to his to catch his attention but do not kiss him. He is taken aback by your unintentional tease and digs his fingers into your flesh. This is why you whimper as you speak, "you- can... enter."
He is broken from his trance, "what?"
"I," you scratch his skin gently, as if to encourage him, "know you are ready. You do not have to hold back. I am accustomed to pain."
He knits his brows, then tilts his head, "how could a virgin know such things?"
He watches bashfulness claim you. You shake your head, "I read it."
"Did your book not tell you it need not be painful?"
"I-" you let out a loud noise when you feel his fingers touch your womanhood, "Daemon-"
He purrs at the sound of his name, "I will show you how good it can feel so that you can tell your father all about it."
The horrifying thought does not even register as he makes you feel things you did not know possible. You begin to shiver and whine, but it is entirely opposite to what your body is accustomed to. Your breath begins to shorten and you instinctively begin to panic, but Daemon's voice keeps you grounded.
"Breathe," he licks your pulse, "it feels good, does it not? Breathe and think of how good I'm making you feel."
You are entirely subservient to him, to his baritone, to his fingers, to his hips. There is nothing but sand and Daemon. You whine when you feel a hard intrusion. The sensation is foreign, and it causes your belly to tense.
He kisses the line that forms between your brows, "relax, my wife. Now is not the time for pain," he hooks his hands behind your knees, "it's a time for pleasure."
It's all a blurry haze after this. Daemon moves into you in a way that makes you wonder how this could ever hurt. Every thrust sends ripples of bliss down your spine. Every hit draws out the lewdest of sounds from your throat. You understand then why they call it love making; you love every moment of it. Your bliss is heightened when he touches something inside you, and again, and again-
For once in your life, as your breath grows heavy, you do not feel like you're about to die.
Daemon alternates tempos, but ultimately resigns to fast and hard. He does not cease until your rigid body goes limp beneath him. The pressure in your stomach breaks into a million burning pieces, and just as it becomes all too much, he pulls out, propping himself up on one arm. You gasp at the heat the spills on your thigh as he strokes himself. Soon, his arm gives out and he collapses beside you.
You behold the mess of red and white between your legs, but find no shame, only arousal, which you did not expect. You turn to your husband, watching his chest heave, his temples sweat, and his tongue lick his lips.
He's... he's beautiful.
#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon smut#daemon targaryen smut#daemon fluff#daemon targaryen fluff#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon smut#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#daemon angst#daemon targaryen angst#daemon#daemon targeryan#house of the dragon
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NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS
TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.
Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)
Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)
Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.
He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.
Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)
Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he’s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.
Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp
Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);
a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth
"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"
He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper
"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently
he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose
You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to
he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes
Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself
Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos
Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts
Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild
Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you
Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy
Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat
Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy
Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.
Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”
Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break
Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm
Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects
Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket
Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck
Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly
Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;
Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside
As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"
"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"
Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further
"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged
Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way
he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.
"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"
Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.
"just like that" you tugged on his curls
After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"
Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better
Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”
Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.
When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."
Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”
But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.
Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.
He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”
Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;
On a sticky note on your fridge
"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”
In your notebook or planner
“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”
"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.
Tucked inside your favorite book
“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”
On your desk after a long day
“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”
Next to your coffee in the morning
"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."
Left on the keyboard of your laptop
“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”
On a scrap of paper in your bag
“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”
Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)
“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”
Left in your lunchbox
“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”
Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you
“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”
Next to your favorite snack
“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”
In your locker
"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."
“Did you know a day on Venus is longer than a year? Just like how waiting to see you again feels like”
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hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3
Not So Secret.
carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - cursing.
written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.
“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”
“Shut up.”
Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.
You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.
Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.
“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”
When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.
“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”
“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”
She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.
“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”
“Carmy will go with you!”
Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.
“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”
Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.
“You’re okay with me driving?”
“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”
You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.
“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”
He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.
He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.
A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.
From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.
Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.
You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.
He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.
“Carmy.”
“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”
You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.
“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”
He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.
“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”
He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.
“I think you know.”
“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.
He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.
“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”
You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.
“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”
“Who bet on you? And who against?”
“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”
“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”
He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.
“Kiss me, Carm.”
He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.
You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.
“You should get your eyes checked.”
He tries to process for a moment.
“Huh?”
“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”
He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.
When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.
#murphy’s 5k celebration#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader fluff#carmy berzatto x reader smut#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader fluff#carmy berzatto x you#the bear fluff#the bear smut#the bear x y/n#the bear x reader#the bear x you
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Me: Alrighty-ho! Time to work on my grossly late fraugwinska's DBD x HH event and @6esiree's contest!
Me, completely a sub to my desires despite having zero experience writing a lucifer x reader fic: This is gonna be a quick, dirty, SHORT one shot. No problem-o! *nearly 5000 words later* fhuck.
TAGS/WARNINGS: vexi's brain rot, p in v, cunnilingus, wtf did I just write, f!reader, lucifer isn't quite over lilith because ✨drama✨️, low key blaming @sociosin for sending me spicy Lucifer's ask and @the-other-soup for drawing sexy lucifer - I stood no chance guys
When you first matched with DuckLover69 on Cinder, you laughed, thinking it was a typo—surely, he meant to type DickMaster69. That seemed on brand for a hook-up app straight out of Hell. But as you stood there in his room, surrounded by luxurious, crimson-hued furniture and bed sheets of rich satin that would have looked decadent if they weren’t crowded by piles—actual mounds—of rubber ducks, you realized this guy hadn’t mistyped at all.
This man really, truly, loved ducks.
Maybe a tad too much.
You wove your way carefully through a veritable army of rubber duckies, each dressed in an outfit more absurd than the last. A little one in a sombrero sat beside a duck knight, complete with a silver helmet and a feather. You squinted. Was that one wielding a miniature sword? It stuck out from its back at a haphazard angle, as if this duck had met some unspeakable end in battle.
How…avant-garde?
“Sorry for the wait!” A nervous, high-pitched voice broke the silence, followed by an anxious chuckle that echoed through the room. You turned to see Mr. Duck Lover, as he’d introduced himself online, standing stiff as a board, his hand twirling a crimson red apple atop his sleek, obsidian-black staff.
He was exactly as odd in person as he’d been in your chats: curious to a fault and totally oblivious to social cues. His very first question had been, “So, do you know the King of Hell?” Not exactly small talk. But you had shrugged it off, telling him the truth—that you’d hardly kept up with Hell’s political scene since you arrived. You were too busy dealing with entitled assholes in your new, endless service job, a punishment so mundane it felt like Hell’s personal version of torture.
You’d expected the conversation to taper off after that, but Mr. Duck Lover had caught you off-guard by taking a U-turn, asking without reserve if you liked sex. The question had been so blunt, so awkwardly dropped into the conversation, that you’d ended up laughing. After a hellish day dealing with rude customers, his lack of tact and straight-up weirdness had been refreshing, if bizarre, and you’d surprised yourself by playing along.
And now here you were, standing in his duck-filled lair, looking at him in all his nervous, overdressed glory. “You weren’t kidding when you said you liked ducks,” you said with a grin, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible as you waved at a particularly stylish duck with a feathered boa around its neck.
Mr. Duck Lover's shoulders stiffened, and his eyes darted back and forth. Two bright red circles painted his cheeks, and he looked like a mime who’d been caught halfway through his act. His fingers fidgeted with the apple on his staff as he tried for a casual smile, though it came across more like a grimace.
“I-is that a dealbreaker?” His voice cracked, and you could practically feel the nerves radiating off him. You chuckled, stepping a little closer, savouring the way his breath caught, and his cheeks flushed a unique shade of gold, the colour spilling across his nose in a way that was like glittering treasure strewn across white sand.
“Nah, just… observing,” you said, your grin turning wicked. “What’s wrong, Mr. Duck Lover?”
You reached out, tucking a stray strand of gold that had fallen over his forehead back into place. He froze, his breath hitching, his eyes widening as if he’d been zapped. The blush on his cheeks deepened, and he puffed them out, holding his breath, looking for all the world like he was trying not to combust from embarrassment.
Odd, yes. But somehow, interesting. You found yourself curious—very curious—about just what went on in that strange, nervous, duck-obsessed mind of his.
You chuckled softly, warmth pooling at the base of your throat as you took him in. How adorable. Everything about him felt so out of place for a guy on an app specifically for hookups. He stood there, stiff as a board, his eyes darting to your every move, arms glued to his sides as though his own body wasn’t sure what to do with itself. And as you leaned closer, you noticed a large portrait hung in the back corner of his room—a family picture, quaint and well-loved.
Am I his rebound? you thought, as you slid your fingers along his collar, grazing the crisp fabric before slowly easing it off his shoulders. His vest, a pale pink stripe against white, gave him a soft, almost innocent look—a stark contrast to the nerves dancing in his wide eyes. He didn’t resist, simply let his jacket slip down his arms, his breath coming shallow as you leaned in, feeling the heat rise as your faces neared, breath mingling.
With a gulp, he stammered, “I gu-guess we’re doing the do, that's fantastic!” He tried to smile, his teeth peeking out in a goofy, uncertain grin as he let the jacket fall to the floor.
“You mean…” you whispered, your voice low as you pressed against him, feeling his entire body tense beneath your touch. “Fucking?”
He squeaked—actually squeaked—and tried to clear his throat, summoning a shred of composure. “That’s right, f-ffucking,” he stammered, the word awkward on his lips as he sounded it out like it was a foreign concept. “Because that’s… what we do. Now. Here.” His body shivered slightly, and you could feel the tremble that ran from his chest to yours, betraying his every anxious thought.
A spark of curiosity bloomed in you as you watched his attempts at bravado crumble with each beat of silence. You felt it all click into place. In Hell, family didn’t exactly… exist. Sinners couldn’t create new life here, so the idea of settling down with a partner wasn’t the norm, let alone the idea of casual intimacy. But here he was, talking about sex with the clumsy innocence of someone barely familiar with the concept. “Hey…” you murmured, a thrill lacing your words. “Are you… a virgin?”
The question struck him like lightning, his eyes going wide, his fingers clutching at his vest in a mixture of embarrassment and flustered denial. “Wha—first time?” He laughed—a loud, forced laugh that seemed to rattle out of him, like he was trying to chase away the truth. “Oh, no, no, no, not at all! I’ve… I’ve used my penis in… numerous ways.” His voice dropped to a low, desperate tone. “I even shape-shifted a few times for… added spice,” he said, his forked tongue flicking nervously, searching your face as though hoping to see doubt there instead of amusement.
But you couldn’t help it. The men you usually met were arrogant, self-assured, and too focused on themselves to care. Yet here he was—blushing, hesitant, endearing in his innocence. A wicked grin spread across your face as you let your fingers trail lower, smoothing down his vest, tracing each trembling line of muscle underneath until you reached the waistband of his pants.
You glanced up, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, and his breath caught. His lips quivered, his cheeks flushed, but he returned your grin—innocent and eager, albeit with a slight, deliciously shaky edge.
You wondered just what kind of man Mr. Duck Lover truly was as your hands moved along his body, peeling away each layer of his clothing, his meagre defences landing on the floor with gentle thuds joining with yours. For all his usual fidgeting and awkwardness, there was something disarmingly tender in the way he touched you, as if each stroke of his fingertips was sacred, each caress reverent. That boyish, clumsy charm he wore like a mask seemed to slip away, leaving behind a quiet intensity in his gaze that made your pulse race.
“Been… a while,” he murmured, his hands wandering in tentative exploration, pausing over the soft curve of your breast, then settling firmly at your hips. The admiration in his voice deepened as he sighed, his eyes tracing over you as though you were something divine. “God really did create the perfect being,” he whispered, his lips grazing your shoulder, and as your bare bodies met in a slow, full embrace, it was your turn to hold your breath, struck by the unexpected gentleness of it.
You almost chuckled, the urge to tease him—“Praising God in Hell? How blasphemous,”—hovering at the tip of your tongue. But as he drew you closer, his face tucked deep into the curve of your neck, words fell away, replaced by a silent warmth that seeped into every nerve, every inch of your skin. His arms wound tighter around you, his body pressing against yours, not out of desire, but a kind of longing that felt… deeper.
Meaningful.
Your arms wrapped around him on instinct, though your mind buzzed with confusion. Shouldn’t this be a quick, meaningless fuck by now? Yet, here you were, tangled in his arms, savouring the sensation of him, feeling the quiet, almost desperate comfort he sought as he held you. The naked intimacy was strange, yes. Unexpected, yes. But something in you didn’t want to break the moment; it felt like a balm, easing all the stress and tension that had worn you down for far too long as you toiled away in your eternal damnation.
You closed your eyes, surrendering to the steady warmth of his body, your fingers tracing delicate paths along his spine. Each gentle touch pulled soft, barely audible sounds from his throat, the hint of a moan muffled against your skin as your fingers reached his hair, petting through the soft strands. His hair was even softer than you’d imagined, and you felt him sink into your touch, both of you on the brink of letting go.
Letting go of what? You weren't sure.
But suddenly, he pulled back, and the spell shattered. His cheeks flushed, his hands awkwardly clutching at your waist as he avoided your gaze, his nervous energy flooding back. “Right, uh, sex. That’s what we’re… here for, isn’t it? So, we should, um…” He forced a grin. “Do the, uh… the sex!”
That was when you finally absorbed your surroundings, the vast emptiness around you, the solemn quiet of his home. There was a lonely hush here, dark and endless, filling every corner, every shadow. And, of course, the lifeless ducks haphazardly thrown around.
But there was no one else.
Not a soul in these halls.
You slipped your hand into his, guiding him toward the bed with a gentleness that felt at odds with your own intentions. You almost considered tucking him under the covers, wrapping him up and telling him that he didn’t have to prove anything to you, that he could wait until he was ready. But he wasn’t a child, and you weren’t here to be his caretaker.
He lay down first, an eager anticipation flickering across his face despite the faint tremor in his limbs, his gaze fixed on you as you joined him. His body, still soft with nerves, lay at ease, his cock resting against his thigh. You reached out, taking him in hand, moving slowly as your fingers traced down his length, stroking him with a softness that coaxed him to relax. You felt him tense, then soften beneath your touch.
“Oh… oh wow,” he breathed, his voice catching as he watched your hand, eyes wide with wonder. “Y-you’re… you’re pretty good at this,” he stammered, awe shimmering in his voice as he struggled to keep his composure, his gaze flicking between your face and your hand, his lips parting in quiet gasps.
At that moment, you couldn’t help but smile—feeling the thrill of his innocence, of his complete surrender. And somewhere in the warmth of his admiration, his trust, you realized you didn’t mind slowing down.
True to his word, his body responded to your touch with a newfound firmness, his length growing against your hand, his skin silky and heated beneath your fingers. The sensation felt achingly familiar, like a melody you’d danced to before, each note resonating with a purpose neither of you had voiced aloud but understood all too well.
Loneliness.
That was the reason, unspoken and raw, why you both found yourselves here tonight. You didn’t need his name, didn’t need his history because tonight was about filling that hollow ache. It was a fix—a fleeting, intoxicating drug against the gnawing ache deep in your chest. For one night, the world and its relentless wear could fall away in the ecstatic blur of release.
You moved to straddle him, your body lowering until your wet, aching centre pressed firmly against the length of his cock, heat melding with heat. His eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, then back up to meet your gaze, a hungry, almost reverent look filling his face. As you began to grind your hips against him, the friction sent a rush of molten heat through you, a spark igniting as you slid over him, slick and needy.
He watched, his breaths coming in short, shuddering waves, head falling back against the pillow, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he should reach for you or simply feel. His own pulse matched yours, every breath and heartbeat syncing to a rhythm of shared need, unburdened by names or burdens.
Slowly, you lifted your hips, guiding him to your entrance, pressing yourself down until his thick, warm tip pushed past your folds. Inch by inch, you took him, feeling every delicious stretch, every bit of pressure radiating inside you. A soft, desperate mewl escaped your lips as you sank fully, your bodies meeting in a perfect, seamless join. The raw sensation of him filling you hit deep, igniting pleasure like embers to flame.
His head tilted back, his eyes fluttering shut, a low hiss slipping past his parted lips. ���This is…” he began, voice trembling, his fingers flexing as if fighting to keep control, “oh gosh… really wonderful.” His hands faltered, barely grazing your hips before he let them fall to his sides again, his face flushed with both pleasure and nervous restraint. His hips lifted, seeking you instinctively, meeting each of your downward strokes with soft thrusts that went deeper, each time pushing him further within.
“Oh, oh jeez, oh—golly…” He groaned, his fingers twisting into the sheets as he struggled to find words, every breath shuddering as he fought to keep up. His words, his earnest surprise, almost made you laugh, a kind of sweetness seeping into his awkward sounds as he gripped the sheets tighter. “Wow…”
You bit back a smile, letting a small laugh escape between breaths. “What? You’ve never had good sex before?” you taunted, rolling your hips, drawing him fully within before slamming back down again.
His cheeks flushed a deep gold, his chest expanding as he gasped, his muscles tensing beneath you. “N-No—ah, that’s not…” His voice wavered, breaking off in a moan as he sucked in a breath. “Oh, no… if you keep doing that… I won’t last long.” His voice softened, rich with pleasure and just a hint of pleading, as his eyes met yours, full of shy desire. “Please… I want this to last… just a little longer.” His words trailed into a low, trembling moan, his hands finally reaching, hesitantly finding their place on your waist as he held you, breath heavy with yearning, surrendering entirely to the moment with you.
You hummed thoughtfully, sliding him out of you, his cock springing free and bouncing against his stomach, throbbing with the loss of warmth. His sudden whimper made you smirk, biting back a laugh as you hovered just out of reach.
“I'm nowhere close to finishing,” you teased, keeping your wet heat tantalizingly close to him, yet unreachable all the same.
“I can fix that!” he nearly shouted, grinning like he’d just found a solution to all the world's problems. Sitting up eagerly, he waggled his eyebrows with such intensity that it made you giggle. “After all, I was quite the… generous eater in my day,” he added, flicking his forked tongue out for effect.
“Oh, is that so?” You chuckled, giving him a playful look. “Show me, oh great, generous eater.”
He joined in your laughter, but then his eyes drifted over your shoulder. His face faltered, brows knitting together, and you followed his gaze. The same family portrait you had initially noticed back in your view—a tall, curvaceous woman with long blonde hair standing beside him and a child who seemed to carry hints of both their features.
You moved next to him, and leaned back, trying to keep your tone casual. “If you’re going to bring a one-night stand over, maybe next time use a room without a family portrait.” The words came out sharper than you intended, a twinge of bitterness souring the edge.
His shoulders tensed as he turned to you, eyes wide with a guilty look. “Oh—no, that’s not…I…” He stammered, his hands fluttering in the air as if trying to reach some explanation.
You sighed, deciding to throw him a lifeline. You were here for fun, not drama. “Hey, relax. It’s…whatever,” you said with a casual shrug, a grin playing on your lips. But that lingering bitterness in your chest didn’t quite vanish.
Mr. Duck Lover seemed to seize onto your words, scrambling between your legs, though his excitement from earlier was starting to wane. “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, leaning close, fingers hesitating on the curves of your hips, as if battling his own mind. His face hovered near your core, yet he seemed frozen in place, like he was staring into the void rather than your body.
It was quite a comical sight.
If you weren't in the picture, that is.
There he was—his head bowed at your centre, practically on the verge of a self-reflective breakdown. While you laid there, spread out and ready, and he was having an existential crisis.
You sighed, raising an eyebrow as he muttered to himself, “I can do this,” almost like he was about to leap off a bridge instead of…well, pleasing you. His hands twitched as his hands hovered over your hips, eyes squeezing shut in concentration as if gearing up for some monumental challenge.
By now, the mood had evaporated, leaving behind only the lingering awkwardness of his whispered self-encouragement. Five seconds later, you realized that, yes, you’d completely lost the heat of the moment, and this was likely going nowhere but more awkwardness.
You reached out gently, brushing his cheek. “Hey…maybe we should…” you started softly, hoping to ease him off this self-imposed, anxious ride and spare you both whatever spiral he was about to go down.
His eyes snapped to yours, full of a pleading, vulnerable intensity, his lips parted and his gaze almost desperate. “No, no, I can do it!” His voice trembled, and he bit his lower lip, the slightest twitch in his left eye betraying his nerves. “It’s just been….”
You softened, trying to help him find the words. “Years?”
“Centuries,” he murmured, looking away as if confessing a secret.
Centuries. The realization hits you with a strange thrill. You liked older men, sure, but you wondered how long he had stayed in Hell for. “Oh…” was all you managed, feeling the surreal weight of the moment.
“May I?” he asked, his voice a tender murmur, fingers twitching, hesitant to touch you. You could only nod, slightly taken aback that he was asking for permission now, especially after where you'd both already been just minutes earlier.
The moment his fingers touched your skin, he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if relishing the warmth. He pressed a featherlight kiss against the curve of your hip, his touch more gentle than you could have imagined. With each kiss, he drifted lower, his lips tracing delicate patterns along your skin, until he found that sensitive spot just above your core, making you jolt beneath him.
Your emotions tangled, caught between surprise and pleasure. You’d expected something hasty, careless, but this…this felt almost achingly tender.
He opened his eyes, the intensity of his gaze softening as his lips brushed against you. Then, slowly, his tongue traced between your folds, a warm, pleasant heat that sent a gasp spilling from your lips. His own groan followed, deep and low, a sound of unrestrained need, as he continued to explore you, his lips and tongue working in gentle, insistent rhythms.
You bit your lip, mirroring the way he’d done earlier, clutching the sheets as your body arched, heels pressing into the bed. Every reaction you gave seemed to stoke something in him, drawing another low, desperate moan from his throat. He rocked his hips against the mattress, as if drinking each of your gasps, as if they were fuelling his own desire.
“Ah—D-don't stop,” you whimpered, your chest rising as your back arched from the bed. But he didn’t let you escape, his lips chasing every inch of you. His mouth closed around your sensitive nub, sucking gently before he dipped his tongue to explore further, the alternating sensations sending you spiralling.
Your breath came ragged and broken, each wave of pleasure building faster as he licked and sucked with an almost feverish devotion. His own body responded in turn, his hips grinding against the bed, the friction drawing needy, guttural sounds from him that only fed your own pleasure.
The rhythm intensified, and just as you thought you might break from the mounting sensation, he pressed deeper, his tongue a soft, insistent force. You clenched around the bliss rising within you, every muscle tensing, as he held you there, relishing every sound, every tremor of pleasure that passed between you both in the heady, dizzying night.
“Shit,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, fingers tightening as you pulled him closer. His lips pressed even harder against you, and you felt yourself unravelling, teetering on the edge of something wild and raw. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, your legs bending as the fire in your belly coiled tighter. Then, with one last fierce suck and an indulgent lick, he shattered your restraint. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, tearing a ragged cry from your throat as it flooded every inch of your body.
He moved with you, his own hips shifting as if in sync with the rhythm of your climax, his mouth still sealed to you, eager to take in every tremor and quake of your release. His hand slipped beneath him, the hurried motion of his strokes intensifying, his fingers relentless as he chased his own peak while lingering over every pulse and shudder of yours.
He moaned against you, his mouth vibrating with his own mounting pleasure, his hips twitching as he hit his release just after yours. His strokes slowed, tapering off as he gasped, his lips finally releasing you as his chest heaved. He knelt there, breathless, lips glistening from the shared passion, drenched by the evidence of his pleasure pooling between you.
But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he crawled up beside you, eyes softened as he reached for you, arms wrapping tenderly around your shoulders, guiding you to rest your head against his chest. You stayed there, uncertain yet draped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, each beat so fierce you couldn’t tell if it was his or your own.
His hand drifted up to brush your hair back, fingers combing gently as his breathing settled into a steady rhythm with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, then another to the crown of your head, his lips lingering as if they held some unspoken affection, each kiss like a vow.
“You were wonderful, dear,” he whispered, his voice a low, affectionate murmur, pressing another soft kiss to your hair. He stayed there, his arms cradling you, showering you with gentle kisses, an unexpected tenderness weaving around you both in the aftermath, grounding you in a warmth that felt real, if only for this moment.
“I'm not sure how to even respond to that” you murmured, your mind still a haze, struggling to piece itself back together in the lingering aftershocks of your release. His fingers brushed tenderly along your cheek, and when you looked up, his eyes were warm, soft, his gaze holding an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“You’re perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up, his voice thick with emotion. His lips pressed gently to yours, lingering as if he wanted to etch this moment into his mind. “You’re everything I want and more.” His voice cracked, barely a whisper, before he pulled you against his chest, his arms tightening around you with a fervency that felt almost desperate, as if he were holding on to something he couldn’t bear to lose.
The raw affection in his embrace left you spinning. He held you as if you were his—an intimacy that felt foreign and startling. You’d just met him, after all. Yet here he was, clinging onto you as if you were more than a passing connection, as if you meant something deeper, something that couldn’t be dismissed. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to what you’d expected.
Your eyes drifted to the shadowed portrait in the corner of the room, catching the faint outline of the woman in it—a powerful figure with curling horns and a smile that was as beautiful as it was unsettling. Whoever she was, she lingered here, like a ghost following his every step, a reminder of a past not fully left behind.
But then, he murmured into your hair, “I love you. Please… don’t go.” His voice was fragile, almost broken, and his arms wrapped around you even tighter, his head pressing against yours, as if the strength of his embrace alone could keep you with him.
There were many reasons people used Cinder. Some were looking for a thrill, some for a fleeting escape, some for connection in a moment that might otherwise feel empty. Maybe that was all this was, a bandage to the wound of loneliness he didn’t want to admit to, a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages.
You hesitated, your hands resting limply against his back. This wasn’t what you’d come for; it wasn’t what you’d expected. But then, you could feel his frame trembling beneath your touch, the vulnerability in his grip as if he’d waited lifetimes to feel the comfort of another. Gently, you placed a hand on his back, feeling the way he drew in a shaky breath.
“I won’t,” you whispered softly, almost to yourself, your voice filling the quiet between you. “I’m here for you.”
It was a lie, but a beautiful lie, nonetheless.
At your words, he shuddered, holding you tighter, his trembling easing as if you’d just unlocked something buried within him.
You were just a passing soul, but at this moment, maybe that was enough.
#Lucifer x reader#Lucifer x you#Lucifer x y/n#hazbin Lucifer x reader#hazbin Lucifer x you#hazbin Lucifer x y/n#hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel Lucifer x you#hazbin hotel Lucifer x y/n#Lucifer hazbin x reader#Lucifer hazbin x you#Lucifer hazbin x y/n#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar#lucifer x reader smut#lucifer smut#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne
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jeonghan being a menace to his gf, pls pls pls I'm on my knees 🛐🛐🛐
18+ / mdi
content: softdom!jeonghan, established relationship, sub reader, jeonghan's a little shit basically, smut, fingering, edging, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1346
a/n: thank u sm for requesting this! this is my favorite subject
masterlist
"h-hannie ... please ..."
"shh, angel. it's okay"
"no, please ... please!"
"i said quiet, baby. dont make me repeat myself," he tsk'd at you, continuing the slow movements of his fingers against your clit.
it had now been over an hour since your boyfriend had decided to make your life hell. for someone who got called an angel by the masses, he could be very mean. specially to you.
you had been completely unsuspecting, simply having woken up next to your boyfriend a bit over an hour ago. as soon as you'd woken up, you had felt a mass against you, which you quickly deduced to be your boyfriend pressed up against you. you couldn't help yourself. you knew he'd punish you for it, but you were half-asleep and you weren't thinking right, so you began to grind your ass against him. it was a not really innocent act. you hadn't meant much by it other than to further feel him against you. but jeonghan didn't take it that way.
jeonghan had woken up, the heat of your almost bare lower half grinding against him. in the morning of all times, when he felt the most sensitive. he had felt like you were teasing him, which was strictly not allowed. he was the only one with that privilege in the relationship. you had both acknowledged it to be unfair, but neither of you minded, enjoying what came attached to your dynamic.
he gave you a few minutes to have your fun, drinking in your mewls of pleasure as you felt him harden even more against you. but soon enough he had had his fill, now wanting more. with all his strength, he wrapped his arms around you, halting your movements as he crept closer to your ear, breathing against it before speaking up.
"gonna be bad today, baby? didn't even try to be good at all, huh?," that was when he trapped you, twisting you to his liking and making you face him as he snuck his fingers down, down, oh, right there.
you immediately whined at his actions. he knew exactly how to move and how much pressure to apply to your most sensitive areas. he began by drawing soft circles on your clit, making you hold onto his arm as you begged him to touch you properly.
"i'm touching you properly. are you saying i don't know how to touch you, angel? should i stop?"
"no!," you'd cried. you'd take whatever he gave you, no matter if it was so little.
that's how you ended up in your current predicament. on hour later, in the same spot, with no proper pleasure to show for your worn out state. he had been toying with your sensitive bud for a whole hour, occasionally allowing his fingers inside you before pulling them out right before you reached your end. he took you all the way to the gates of heaven just to pull you back under before you could go all the way up. he was cruel, like that. his other hand occupied itself on your tits, softly rubbing at your nipples as you threw your head back. there was nothing you wanted mote than for him to use his fingers to their full potential; pulling at your nipples with one hand while the other scissored in and out of you. but this was jeonghan you were talking about. he needed to make a torturous show out of it.
"hannie ... please. i'm begging you! wa-want -oh!"
he had finally decided to take some mercy on you, moving his fingers at a speed he hadn't reached since he first started touching you. you wanted to whine and beg for more, but you knew it was dangerous territory. one wrong move and jeonghan would take it all away.
he must have read your mind, as the next thing he said pertained to your sudden silence (sans a few muffled mewls), "what? not gonna make noise for me, angel? nothing for me? what do i get out of playing with this pretty pussy if i can't even hear my angel cry for me?," he was about to stop, just when you went on a limb and grabbed onto his wrist, using all your strength from preventing his fingers from leaving you.
"oh? my baby's gonna be bad? okay, angel. i'll allow it. already misbehaved so much today anyway. you must want it really bad, huh?"
you nodded frantically as his face neared yours, breath against your mouth as he looked down to you.
"god. my gorgeous angel. you're so beautiful. did you know? huh? have any idea what a pretty thing you are?"
he knew his words did nothing but drive you closer to the edge, only making your cries for him louder as you were at the brink of it.
"that's it, angel. cum for me. let me see that pretty face you make- ah! that's the one. so pretty," he mockingly gasped at your orgasmic expression, bringing up his hand from playing with your tit to wipe at a lone tear escaping your eye.
he gave you a few seconds to catch your breath before he began to crawl over you, yanking off your soaked panties as he pulled his own sweats just below his ass. he grabbed his cock, rubbing it a bit before grabbing at the end of it and positioning just against your cunt. then he got even meaner.
with his angry tip, he rubbed his cock against the your swollen clit, drawing light circles on it as you gasped and writhed at the feeling. the filthiness of the act made your eyes roll back, loving the feeling of his hard length rubbing against your abused clit. you had been sensitive for over an hour, only gaining even more sensitivity after the intensely awaited orgasm he had just given you. the feeling of his cock giving you such light stimulation made you throw your head back.
"oh, angel. you're so sensitive for me, aren't you? my beautiful angel. just a simple touch and you're already in the clouds, huh, angel? love how responsive you are."
he must've gotten frustrated a few moments later, deciding to plunge in with no warning. the sudden intrusion made you gasp, digging your hands on his back as he began to fuck you at a fast pace, leaving behind the softness of his previous touches.
"gonna make you cum, okay angel? need you to strangle my dick with that pretty cunt, yeah? gonna fill you up."
he knew there was nothing you loved more than when he came inside you. he was just as addicted to the feeling, but would sometimes go as far as depriving you of it just to tease you. he always put his ability to make you beg for him over his own pleasure. he thrived off of your cries for him.
"hannie! please! come in me. need y-you to! please .."
"it doesn't seem like i'll have an option either way, angel. you're squeezing me too tight. can't even m-move anymore," he panted against you, increasing his pace by the second. he was on the verge, as were you.
only a few moments later and he was filling you up, with your own orgasm following close. once you had caught your breaths, jeonghan finally lowered his face down to yours, kissing softly into your mouth. except it never stopped just there. jeonghan knew how obsessed with kissing him you were, so he always had to pull at all stops. there was nothing he loved more than your cries for him, after all.
he sensually licked into your mouth, instructing you to stick out your tongue for him. his tongue took yours, licking and sucking at it in such a nasty way that had your eyes rolling back. he pulled away soon after, chuckling against your mouth at the way your lips followed after his.
"gotta stop rewarding you for being bad. i'm creating a brat," he knew it wasn't true, but he simply just lived to tease you.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt fluff
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Act Right
warning: implied smut (18+)
"I thought I told you to check that attitude at the door," Roman's gaze grew more intense as he watched her small frame move gracefully down the aisle. The lines on his face deepened into a frown, highlighting his frustration at the audacity of the dark-skinned woman. He leaned over the shopping cart, his arms crossed over the handle as he slowly pushed it through the familiar aisles of their local Krogers. His posture was relaxed but on the inside, his irritation was simmering.
"I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone," She shot back, turning her head sharply to look at him over her shoulder. Her side-eye was so intense that she could feel the strain in her eyeballs. The stubborn woman crossed her arms tightly over her chest, rolling her eyes with extreme annoyance and pouting like a child who wasn't getting her way.
They had been roaming the grocery store, bickering over the smallest things. Their arguments ranged from things such as her thinking Roman was glancing another woman's way to trivial matters like deciding which seasoning to use for tonight's dinner. Every aisle seemed to bring a new disagreement, turning their shopping trip into a battlefield.
Roman had managed to keep his cool, but Bryden was unleashing the worst of herself. She fired off provocative comments, some of which Roman brushed off, while others brought what was simmering in him to a boil.
But these outbursts just didn't happen all of a sudden. It had been building up over the past few days.
On Monday, she treated him as invisible, walking past him without a glance. Despite his unavoidable 6'3" build, she seemed to effortlessly overlook him.
Tuesday saw Bryden in a frenzy, slamming and shoving everything in her path. Pots and pans crashed onto the kitchen counter, cabinet doors slammed shut, and even Roman, over 200 pounds, was pushed aside a few times.
By Wednesday, her eye rolls had become a habit. It seemed her eyes were doing acrobatics, rolling so far back that Roman wondered how she could still see straight. Every utterance from him, whether a chuckle, smirk or even a cough, was met with shady looks and comments from her.
Thursday had arrived, and with it came Bryden's relentless barrage of snappy remarks aimed at the WWE star. Curses, teeth-sucking, groans — she pulled out all the stops, showing out completely. Roman was teetering on the edge of his patience.
As he drummed his thumbs lightly against the grocery basket handle, Roman shook his head, forcing a fake smile onto his handsome face amongst strangers while Bryden continued to let snide remarks slip from her lips.
"Bryden Renee Wilson," Roman warned, his face flushing a dark shade of crimson that barely appeared on his tanned skin, his grip on the basket handle turning his knuckles pale.
When Roman resorted to using her full name, Bryden knew he meant business. She noticed the seriousness in his tone, but her own anger overshadowed any effect it might have had.
Roman was use to Bryden's unpredictable mood swings. Usually, he remained calm, using his soothing voice and words to ease her mind. His mastery of language often made it hard for her to hold onto her anger. But this time, his smooth talk fell flat. There was no getting through to her.
In a moment of frustration, Roman abandoned the basket without a thought. He reached out and pulled her body against his towering frame. The sound of her gasping filled the aisle, but not enough to draw the attention of nearby shoppers, but even if it did, Roman paid them no mind. His focus was solely on her, she had finally pushed him to his limit.
"Now, you listen to me. I'm tired of your shit," his voice reverberated through the shelves, his usually warm chocolate brown eyes now darkened with anger. His grip on her body lacked its usual gentleness, now replaced with a grip that left her trembling.
"I've been patient with you for too long, but your attitude is getting out of hand," he continued, echoing against the colorful backdrop of exotic spices and foreign delicacies shelved behind her. Her mean mug softened as she realized how upset she'd made him; Roman wasn't playing games.
His gaze lingered on her, brows knitting together in a puzzled frown as he tried to figure out what could have provoked her behavior.
Her heart was racing, her bottom lip trembling as she fell victim to his penetrating gaze.
Roman's lower body pressed against her abdomen, the bustling aisle around them fading into the background. His growing arousal was clear amongst the fragrant aromas and bustling shoppers, but it didn’t deter him from trying to get his message across.
Bryden swallowed any, if not all, whimpers that tried to escape. She was melting in the moment, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, his bulge growing against her stomach, she was ready to submit to him without question. She had missed this—missed him. His constant travel for work had left her starved for affection, feeling untouched and deprived. Even when he was home, his focus remained on his work, leaving little time for her. The only time she truly got his attention was when she acted out, her rebellious behavior was a desperate plea for the intimacy she craved so bad.
His jaw clenched as he spoke again, his words full of authority, "The disrespectful shit you've been saying and doing is unacceptable. I'm not finna tolerate it any longer. Act right, or I'll make sure you do, understand?"
As his hand tightened its grip on her bottom, each word emphasized with a squeeze, Bryden couldn't help but moan in discomfort. She pushed against his chest, turning her head away and shaking it 'no', her tight coils brushing against his chest and the shelves as she did so.
He cursed silently at her stubbornness, his body burning with fiery tendrils of irritation. With an exhale, he loosened his grip on her bottom, his hand withdrawing before delivering a sharp smack.
Her startled yelp cut through the air, the surprise and pain evident in the small, whimpering sound that followed. His rough hand moved to massage the tender spot, his touch now sought to soothe the sting he had caused.
"Keep trying me, Bryden. You better find you somethin' safe to do, sweetheart," he warned affectionately. She shivered as he placed a tender kiss on her temple, the softness of his lips and the rough texture of his beard sent delicate cascades of goosebumps across her skin. Each bristle brushed lightly against her, the same way they did to her thighs when his head was between them. She inwardly moaned at the thought.
He pushed a small curl from her pretty face before gently nudging her away, causing her to sway slightly on her feet.
His face formed a small, satisfied smirk, his eyes smoldering as he observed his girlfriend's response. Her flushed cheeks betrayed her anger, the sharpness of her expression giving way to a softening of her features. He couldn't help but notice the change in her body language—how her full bottom lip found its way between her teeth, a telltale sign of her horniness. Her legs were crossed, one thick thigh resting atop the other as if trying to keep her juices from dripping.
He walked back to the basket as if nothing had happened, pushing it through the aisle with his usual calm demeanor and a soft whistle. She stood rooted to the spot, still processing the interaction. As he continued walking, he noticed the absence of her footsteps behind him. He paused and glanced back, with a raise of his brow his eyes locked onto her, silently urging her to catch up.
"Come on, baby," he called softly, his voice gentle but still holding command. Without hesitation, she followed him, continuing their grocery run. The noise of the store faded as they walked side by side, picking up items from the shelves.
Usually, she'd murmur a few things under her breath if she was still irritated, but this time, she remained silent. For once, Bryden held her tongue. It was music to Roman's ears.
During their moment, when Roman was searching for her soul through her eyes, he truly understood why she was so frustrated—she always behaved like this when he returned from road trips, acting out like a spoiled brat. Maybe not to this degree, but she still displayed these behaviors nonetheless.
Her sulkiness and defiance were clear signs of sexual frustration. The way she became calm and quiet after giving her a bit of tough love confirmed his suspicion. Despite this, he knew it was unacceptable, and she needed to learn there were consequences for disrespecting him.
Oh, he was definitely going to discipline her once they got home. His mind raced with thoughts of how he would handle her, ensuring she understood the boundaries and the repercussions of crossing them. Maybe have her pick a popsicle stick from their punishment jar.
He was going to make sure she received some act right tonight..
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Whew, it's been a minute. Hope ya'll enjoyed!
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi
@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80
@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @tshepisho @mzv11 @venusesworld @sheyaish @saintmagx
#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#wwefanfic#romanreignsimagine#wwe#romanreignsoneshot#roman reigns smut#fanfiction#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns fluff
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A kind of look
A/N: Trying to act normal while my brain is in the realm of Spencer-Ville is impossible. The spirits possessed me, have a oneshot.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Summary: Apparently Spencer has been looking at her a little different recently.
Word Count: 898
Warnings: nothing really just fluff
“He’s looking at you.”
“What, Spence? Yeah, I know.”
“No. I mean he’s looking at you.”
They’d been saying this recently, Emily and Morgan. Making little comments that didn’t quite make sense, and trying to convince her of something that obviously isn’t real.
Somehow, drunkenly, she’d told Penelope about her crush on Spencer. Which resulted in her telling Derek, and him telling Emily, until it became one big family affair to try and get them together.
Even Kevin, who she barely even knew in the first place, made a passing comment about how cute they are together.
It’s aggravating, she wants to throttle them, but obviously that’s not allowed.
Most recently, Emily has been trying to convince her that Spencer looks at her differently. Which sounds completely insane.
Spencer Reid looks at her the same way he always has, politely and just a little to the right of her eyes. It’s adorable and endearing, making her want to smother him with affection until he drowns in it. But unfortunately he just doesn’t feel the same.
No matter what Emily tries to tell her.
Granted, she has felt his eyes on her for quite a while now, but that’s pretty normal.
He zones out staring at people sometimes, has freaked out a lot of LEOs that way. So she doesn’t take it personal when he zones out in her direction, getting lost in his own beautifully massive brain.
It’s completely normal, and when she turns around to indulge Emily’s insanity, she’ll see it.
When their eyes met, she was immediately made aware of the fact that it was, in fact, very different. To the point where she’s pretty sure she’s forgotten how to breathe.
His eyes almost seemed to be blurred at the edges, gazing at her so gently that she felt like she would break if he looked away from her.
So this is what they meant, Christ, it’s suffocating. But in a way that makes her want to go and ask him to help her breathe.
And when Spencer finally realises that he’s staring into her eyes rather than admiring her from afar, he stiffens. Eyes darting away to focus across at his computer monitor, scrambling for something to hold onto and sending his pencil hold flying.
Only drawing more attention to himself as he dove to the floor, searching for pencils and a way out.
Just as he thought the worst was over, hunched on his hands and knees under his desk, holding his hands to his burning face, he felt someone poke his shoulder.
Hands falling away, hoping it was just Morgan come to tease him. And then nearly choking at her being crouched down with him. Tripping over her name as he forced it out.
“Wha- what are you doing down here?”
Smiling softly, she held up a handful of pencils that she’d collected from around the room. The blush on both their faces being an equal match.
“Helping? Sorry if I freaked you out just then.”
“No!” He lurched for her and found her shoulders, clinging tightly as she met his gaze. “You could never freak me out! I just.. wasn’t expecting you to look back at me.. that’s all.”
Oh yeah, she’s completely smitten by this man. Gently easing his hands from her shoulders so that his imbalance on his knees doesn’t take them both out. He’s called the human bambi for a reason, and it’s not just because he’s cute.
Tilting her head gently, she shuffled a little closer until they were both under the desk. All conversation is suddenly being muffled around them, they’re in their own little bubble where nothing else matters. That bright smile of hers pulling at her lips in a way that makes his knees weak.
Not ideal when they’re the thing he’s currently supporting himself with.
“And.. why were you looking at me, Spence?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
He didn’t even need to think about it, which is what made her utterly melt. If it weren’t the middle of the day, and she couldn’t already feel Emily’s judging eyes on her ass, she would’ve dragged him down to stay under his desk forever.
Instead, she leant in and pecked his cheek, grinning when she pulled back and he was looking at her again.
Jesus, she’s never felt more beautiful than when he’s looking at her. Hopefully she’s playing off her nerves well, because she feels like she’s going to implode.
“Takes one to know one gorgeous. Get back to work.. you can ask me out later.”
She got up first, crawling out from under the desk and practically skipping back to Emily. Whereas Spencer was stuck for a long time, hand to his cheek and daft smile on his face.
Until Morgan said his name and he moved before he could think. Smacking his head onto the table in his rush to clamber back to being vertical.
The rush of standing up so fast and having his cheek kissed sending him a little dizzy.
“Y-Yeah?”
“We’ve got a case, let’s get to the jet so you can make your ‘love me’ eyes at your girl.”
Spluttering something that didn’t even manage to come out as words, he just had to follow along. Wondering just how long it would have to be to class the time as later, already knowing exactly where he’s going to take her.
Want more?! Good!
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid one shot
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Save a horse, RIDE A COWBOY logan
The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the rolling hills of the ranch. Sweetheart stood by the corral, watching Logan from a distance as he worked with the horses. The man was all muscle and grit, the worn denim jeans clinging to his legs, the sweat-drenched shirt stretching across his back as he moved with ease. He was wild, untamed—just like the land they lived on.
Logan glanced up, catching her watching him. A slow grin spread across his face, and he tipped his hat, the smirk on his lips telling her he knew exactly what she was thinking. She blushed, even though she tried not to. Logan had that effect on her—he always did.
He sauntered over, his boots kicking up dust as he approached, his swagger unmistakable. When he reached her, he didn’t say a word at first. He just looked at her, his gaze lingering on her lips before sliding down her body, taking in every inch of her like he had all the time in the world.
“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he finally murmured, his voice low and husky as he moved closer, his body towering over hers.
Sweetheart swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Is that so?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably. Logan’s presence always made her feel off balance, in the best possible way.
He grinned, a hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch sent a shiver down her spine. “You know it is, sweetheart.”
She could feel the heat between them, a tension that had been building all day. Logan’s eyes darkened, his gaze hungry, full of desire. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his lips crashing down on hers. The kiss was hot, demanding, full of everything they’d both been holding back.
Logan’s hands were rough as they slid down her back, pulling her against him, pressing her body to his. Sweetheart’s hands found their way into his hair, tugging lightly, drawing a low groan from his throat. His lips trailed down her neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against her skin, making her gasp.
“I want you,” he growled against her throat, his voice rough with need.
Sweetheart pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “Then take me,” she whispered.
Logan didn’t need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the barn, kicking the door open with his boot. Inside, the hay scattered on the ground cushioned their fall as he gently laid her down, hovering above her.
His hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress higher as his lips claimed hers again. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of them in that moment, their bodies tangled together in the heat of their passion. Logan’s touch was rough, but his movements were tender, every brush of his hand, every kiss, setting her body on fire.
Sweetheart moaned as his lips traveled lower, his hands exploring every inch of her. The barn walls echoed with the sound of their breathless whispers and quiet gasps, the intensity between them growing with every passing second.
When it was over, they lay together in the soft hay, Logan’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist. The stars twinkled through the cracks in the barn’s roof, casting a soft light over them. Sweetheart rested her head on his chest, her body still buzzing with the aftermath of their love.
“You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart,” Logan murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.
Sweetheart smiled, feeling completely content in his arms. “And you’re trouble,” she teased, looking up at him with a playful grin.
Logan chuckled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”
She laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “No,” she admitted, her voice soft. “I wouldn’t.”
And in that quiet moment, with the stars shining above and Logan holding her close, Sweetheart knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.
#the drover#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x you#logan x you#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett x reader#logan howlet smut#logan smut#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#wolverine#wolverine imagine#wolverine x reader#wolverine fanfiction
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kinktober 2023 -> day 21
window - suna rintarou x reader
word count: 1601
kinktober masterlist
warnings: usual smut warnings, dub-con (?), semi-public sex
“This is so nice, Rin!” You grinned in excitement, taking in the hotel room around you. The bed was king-sized, made neatly, lamps on either side tables illuminating the room. The lights in the ceiling were subtle too, giving the room an ambience you loved. Across from you were floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city, showing you exactly how high up you were. You whistled lowly when you walked up to them, looking down at the twinkling lights. When Hinata had excitedly told you about the hotel they were staying at, you thought he was lying when he said it was the tallest building in the city. But he wasn’t. You were miles above anyone else.
Behind you, Suna placed both your luggage beside the door with a soft thud, closing the door behind him and using the key card to lock it. He hummed in approval, sharp eyes looking around until they met you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I never knew being a pro-athlete for a National Team meant you would get so many perks. If I had, I would’ve started dating you a long time ago.” You teased, making him chuckle as he unzipped his team jacket and took it off, throwing it over a chair next to the wall. You watched him stretch, eyes drawn to the little patch of skin visible under the hem of his shirt. When he caught you looking, evident by the smirk on his face, you turned back to the window abruptly, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
You and Suna had been friends since high school, when you had managed the volleyball club for three years. With his laid back personality and almost brooding vibe, it was hard to imagine how he was friends with you, always energetic, sometimes anxious and overthinking. You were worlds apart, yet you felt that Suna was just what you needed to hold you together. He filled up any gap in your personality. He made you care less about what others thought of you, just as you made him care more, which was what he needed.
You two were perfect for each other.
It was only a matter of time before you started seeing each other in a more romantic light. And now here you were, years after high school and almost seven months of dating later, you were accompanying Suna to one of his away games for the first time. Despite knowing him for so long and dating for over half a year, you still weren’t used to the intimacy. You loved it, of course, but given your anxious, self-doubting nature, you had yet to accept it wholeheartedly.
Unbeknownst to you, Suna was enamored by your hesitancy. A sick, twisted part of him loved to push you to your limits, knowing you would let him because you trusted him completely. It was like scratching an itch, the doubt in your eyes when he suggested something a little risky, and as he watched your back now, peering out of the open window at the brightly lit city night lights, a new idea formed in his head, and the itch came back.
You almost yelped, startled when you felt Suna at your back, hands finding your waist and chin leaning against your shoulder.
“Geez, Rin, you scared m-” You gasped when his teeth nipped at the skin of your neck, body stiffening and eyes widening at the feeling on your lower back, something hard digging into you. Oh.
You giggled a bit, letting out a breathy moan when Suna grinded his pelvis against you, making his…. problem… more known. His lips were mapping out the skin of your neck, nipping playfully every few seconds and drawing a sigh out of your slightly parted lips.
Your whole body stiffened when one of Suna’s hands traveled low, hiking up the hem of your dress until his fingers had reached your panties, hastily shoving his hand into them and cupping your bare sex. You gasped and jerked, trying to push his body back, but of course, he didn’t budge. You gripped his wrist tight as he started rubbing over your folds, your body jerking forward to try and unlatch him from your back.
“Rin!” You cried, eyes so wide they felt like they would pop out of your head. “What’re you-”
All you got back was a hum from your boyfriend, bordering on a moan as his fingertip dipped teasingly through your folds. You gasped, knees buckling slightly, Suna’s other arm coming up to wrap tightly around your waist. He dug his teeth into your neck more, and you could hear him inhale deeply.
“‘M horny, babe.” He drawled, voice a few octaves lower than usual. You felt yourself clench at the sound. “Be a good girl and take it.”
Oh. He knew exactly what he was doing. Calling you a good girl. And you were too weak when it came to him. You couldn’t resist the pulls and beckons of his body, pressed so solidly and deliciously into you from behind, until you could feel every shift of his muscles. But this time, as you looked down at the busy city below you, your fears were too great.
“H-here?” Your voice trembled, half from anxiety and half from the teasing brush of Suna’s fingers, still barely touching you but doing enough to rile you up. You weighed the options in your head like a pros and cons list, feeling a thrill go through you at the thought of just doing it right here. He hummed.
“Why not?” He answered your question with a question, an annoying habit of his, whilst pushing you to take a step forward until your body was pressed to the glass in front of you. The coldness of it ran like a shock through your body, instinctively moving back from it, which Suna took as you grinding back on him, making him groan into your shoulder. The hand inside your panties pushed down then, rolling the fabric down until it rested at the tops of your thighs. You felt him shuffling around behind you until you felt the press of his bare cock between your asscheeks, gasping when the tip rubbed through your slit.
“R-Rin…” Your voice was barely there, already losing your train of thought. Your mouth dropped when he penetrated you, no prep whatsoever, causing your core to burn as it stretched to accommodate his girth, just the way you liked. You heard his deep groan behind you, sounding so satisfied, as if he had been craving this for so long, and the thought drove a whine out of you, your cheek pressed to the cold glass as you were pushed forward because of Suna’s weight.
Then he started moving, slowly at first and then picking up speed, pulling back enough to push your dress up until it rested on your lower back, your ass on display. Suna bit his lip at the sight, gripping your hips tight and pulling them back, using one hand to push your back down until you were bent to his liking, before he started furiously and speedily pounding into you. You gasped at the change in pace, pressing your hands and forearms into the window for any form of support, eyes rolling shut at the feeling of Suna’s thick cock ramming into your tight, poorly prepped hole.
“Open your eyes, princess,” one of Suna’s hands wound into your hair, tugging your head up. “Look.”
And you did, tears rolling down your face when Suna hit your sweet spot, tip grazing it over and over with every thrust. Your core was tightening, walls already spasming around him, as you watched people move around below you, almost the size of insects, unaware of what was happening some storeys above them. You felt Suna lean forward until his torso was draped over your back, pace not faltering in the slightest but the angle shifting in a way that had you crying out in pleasure.
“Think they know what’s goin’ on?” He rumbled into your ear, referring to the people outside the window. “Think they know you’re getting your pretty little cunt abused by my fucking cock? Bent over and taking it like a good little whore. Fuck. The way you're clenching around me. Dirty girl. You love this, don’t you?”
“N-no.” You whined, your tone of voice contradicting your words.
Suna chucked, racking up the pace even more as if to prove a point.
“No? Don’t lie, princess. You wouldn’t be this wet if you didn’t like it. Makin’ a mess all over me.”
“Rin, I’m cumming.” You choked out suddenly, his words tipping you forward until you were teetering over the edge, clenching desperately around him as your legs shook, whining long and loud when your orgasm hit, core pulsing and sending shockwaves down your system. You gasped and cried through it, eyes nearly crossing at the euphoric feeling, not even registering when Suna finished as well, moaning into the back of your neck and filling you up with his hot cum.
You didn’t move, frozen in place as you panted and tried to stop your vision from swimming. You felt Suna gently pull out, shuffling around a bit before he guided you to straighten up slowly, picking you up and carrying you to the bed. You sighed as you sunk into the soft sheets, cold over your heated skin.
Suna watched as you knocked out almost instantly, smiling softly and pressing a light kiss over your hairline.
His itch had been scratched.
Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 1 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran n @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarō#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro fic#suna rintaro smut#suna rintarou smut#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro fanfiction#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu smut#kinktober
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Thinking of a dragon that's hoard is entirely made up of knights who came to slay him and were all fucked out of their minds instead. (male dragon X male reader)
Just imagine you're a knight sent to slay a dragon who has killed an unholy amount of your fellow knights. You're not feeling too great about your chances but you weren't given a choice by your king, who just wants the beast's horns mounted above his throne.
You found the cave easily, even getting in was a breeze, but instead of piles of jewels and other fineries you see a good chunk of half or fully naked men lounging casually.
You're almost too shocked to notice the unmistakable feeling of something looming behind you. But notice it you do.
Whirling around isn't an option. A large clawed hand curls around your torso as a single claw slips your helmet off. Hot breath hits your newly exposed neck.
"Hello little knight. Did the king send me another treasure for my hoard?"
The men in the cave turn at the voice, and with heavy shock you realize that you recognize several of them. A blonde man lounging nude next to a natural pool was the very knight sent out before you.
His knowing smile does nothing to ease your confusion.
The dragon lets out a low growl as he turns you around. "Look at me little one."
You brace your sword for an attack but the creature stuns all action from you. His emerald scales seem to glitter in the dappled light, massive curled horns framing the sharp face lowered to stare back at you. There's an elegant grace to his poised musculature; powerful but sleek.
His body is long and slender. It's nothing like the stocky build you were expecting to encounter. Lost in awe you almost miss the sound of your sword clattering upon the stones.
His amber eyes crinkle as if in amusement. There's an animalistic playfulness in them that holds you hostage. "Quite a lovely little trinket you are. Come, we'll get those awful chunks of metal from your body so I may see you properly."
Before you can object you're scooped up in those massive claws and taken to a smaller pocket in the cave out of view to the others. You were back to complete confusion.
Dragons were supposed to like treasure, gold and jewels and silver, not knights.
Your armor is removed with a delicate and practiced air. This was most definitely not the first time the dragon unclothed a human knight.
Stripped bare you suddenly feel self conscious. The way the dragon's gaze trails every curve, every scar and blemish, causes a fire to burn across your skin.
A low rumble fills the cavern. "Yes, you will make a fine addition to my hoard."
Movement draws your eyes to the dragon's lower legs. A spear tipped cock was unsheathing, already dripping to the stones. It was small for his size but still massive compared to yourself.
Was he expecting you to take that? You figured it would end up splitting you in two. Again before you can protest you are firmly pressed into the fur lined bed.
His long tongue trails down, the warmth giving you goosebumps as it travels over your sternum to your belly and even lower. A whine slips from your lips as your own cock hardens in response. The dragon lets out a rumble.
Something slides to your ass. For a moment you panic, thinking it to be the dragon's cock already, and twist to see. It's not his penis.
You realize it's a claw, worn down to a dull point for safety. As your entrance is teased you fight against you own thoughts. You shouldn't enjoy this! You should be slaying the beast!
But you can't deny the warm weight that settles in your lower stomach, the barely contained whimpers. Many knights have lovers but you chose not to. You wanted to be fully dedicated to your training. Unfortunately that didn't mean that you didn't feel the urges, it just meant you never acted on them before.
And now you are so desperate to feel it that your orders are slipping from your mind.
Your dragon licks and teases until you're shaking. Once you're a begging mess he pulls his claw back and positions his cock. You moan as it goes in.
It's so large it burns but not in a way that makes you want to stop. In, in in, until he bottoms out. You never thought you'd feel this full. Your dragon waits until your muscles ease to start a steady pace.
His rumbles combine with your groans. You scramble to grab ahold of him, finding his forearms, and arch your back. New sensations wipe the last of your concerns from your mind.
"Ple-please-!" Your breathy whisper causes your dragon to shudder. From the side of your vision you see his pupils blow out.
No longer gentle, you dragon's eyes roll up as his hips buck the thick penis into your hole over and over. The calm pace turns into a fever pitch. You squirm from the overwhelming pleasure rolling over you in thundering waves.
You feel a climax building and with a breathy gasp white ropes shoot out onto your dragon's scales and your own belly. That only encourages him more.
He takes quite a few more minutes, amazing minutes, to cum himself. A roar shakes the cavern.
Your dragon doesn't collapse on you so much as lays down but his weight still bears down strong. Both of you are breathing hard.
"The claiming process is long, trinket. I need to be sure it properly sticks." Your chest heaves in anticipation. A few hours, the rest of the day, you weren't sure how long long was but you find yourself too cock drunk to care. The dragon's tongue laps your chest again.
In the end, "long" is a three day haze of pleasure and climaxes. Being sent to slay the dragon, you decide, was the best thing to happen to you.
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster x human#dragon smut#dragon x human#dragon x reader#pa bear writes#sorry no gender neutral for this one#feel free to imagine it that way if you want#I only mention the reader's genetalia twice at the end and it can be skimmed over
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Don't Sneak up on People with Swords
@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.
Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her.
She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed.
“Excuse me?”
Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range.
“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!”
The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye?
“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on.
“This building is not fit for human occupation.”
“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.”
She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully.
“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side.
“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?”
She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death.
“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.”
Talia’s eyes widened.
“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged.
“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.”
“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent.
“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon.
Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so.
“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.”
“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?”
“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus.
“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely.
“Would I get a sword?”
“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”
Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed.
“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.”
Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her.
“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while.
“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off.
Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power.
#danny fenton#talia al ghul#dp x dc#batman#kid danny#deaged danny#talia is like this is my kid#he can be damian's brother#Danny does not want to get a new dad#a new mom on the other hand#I also had an idea where Jazz came out to check on danny#and fought talia to protect danny#and talia is like ooh two for one special#I get a new daughter and a new son#I can train both of them to over throw ras and batman
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