#I HAVE NO FLUFFING WORDS

[mooifyourecows]

could i ask another one for the wip ask?

15. royal pain in the ass ?

of course 🥲

that one is my daisuga fantasy/royal au in which Adventurer Daichi becomes the personal guard of Prince Koushi who just so happens to be half siren and horrible at controlling his power. RIP daichi's sanity

here's a little scene excerpt:

[hunnybunbunny]

hewo hi quick life update~

i take-a da ADHD meds; iGay the Discos Elysiums; i almos 1 year post-Top Surgey; i also almos 2 year testosteroonie; i long the hair of styled Geeraalt of Riiviia The Wintcher 3 (not blenched nor dyied); i am becomeding fuzzy wuzzy all overed like a teddy bear 💖🧸💖

[snowballseal]

Pretty Bird

Sylus X Reader

Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.

Word Count: 2123

Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.

---

The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.

The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.

“Hey there pretty bird.”

Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.

Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”

Speak of the devil.

“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks.

You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-

“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.

“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”

You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.

“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”

You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”

“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”

Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your  state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.

“Sylus-!”

He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”

You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.

---

The second time is when you visit on one of your off days. 

When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.

Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.

A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.

“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”

He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-

Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.

“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”

You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.

He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.

“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”

“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”

“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”

“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”

You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”

Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”

God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.

You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.

Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.

“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.

God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?

---

The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.

Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.

“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d***  bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”

“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”

“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.

“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.” 

Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.

“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.

“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”

Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.

“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.

The air goes silent.

Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization. 

You were playing with him.

“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?

“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.

Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”

“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.

“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”

“Quiet.”

Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.

Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)

[pearlymel]

A dance— Capitano

Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.

Wc : 3.2k

Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.

Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!

You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.

Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.

All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)

Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.

It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.

Like last week.

“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.

Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.

"Did you learn it from someone?”

“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”

You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.

“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.

Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.

"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”

“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”

“i don't.”

And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.

“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.

You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.

An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.

“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.

“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”

“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.

All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.

But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.

You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.

“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”

“and the colour?”

"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”

Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.

Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.

Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.

You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”

"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”

You are ready.

You are not ready.

Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?

The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.

Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.

You were here to make friends, hopefully.

You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.

And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.

Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?

Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.

But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?

You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.

“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.

"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.

The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.

Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.

He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.

"I suppose we should dance, wife.”

“you want to dance?”

"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.

You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.

Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.

"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.

Interesting.

He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.

You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.

His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.

”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”

You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.

His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.

"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.

"You look rather well tonight, as well.”

“Thank you, wife.”

The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.

You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.

As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.

You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.

But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.

"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.

"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”

He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.

Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.

“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.

The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.

Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.

Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.

The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.

He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.

“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let your hair breath the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.

You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in hin stir.

His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.

It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.

Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.

You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.

Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.

“Will you allow me to touch you?”

The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.

When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.

His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.

“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”

And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.

“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.

“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.

He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.

His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.

It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.

Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.

Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.

“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.

“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’

Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.

Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.

You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.

He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.

His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.

“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.

Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.

—

You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.

As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.

“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”

Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,

[kisses4reid]

sleep talking | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

fluff, one bed trope, r sleep talks, mutual pining

You lined up two pillows in the middle of the bed, fluffing them upright to create a barrier. Spencer smiled, emerging from the bathroom with wet hair and classic plaid pants. His black tshirt stuck to him slightly, and you had to pinch yourself behind the pillow wall to rip your eyes off of him.

“What’s this?” He asks, bending down at his bedside table to charge his flip phone. Your hands start fidgeting and you smile sheepishly,

“I’m a very active sleeper. Also, you hate germs. I doubt sleeping in the same bed as someone makes you sleep better.” Spencer sits down and covers his lower body in the soft duvet the hotel had washed freshly just the night before.

Although he looks casual and calm, like being roomed with you is a reoccurring situation, his heart palpitates under his ribs.

Maybe he didn’t want the pillow barrier, but it didn’t matter - if you wanted it, he’d agree.

He shrugs, smelling of coconut soap and linen. You turn your face away to smile slightly. David knew exactly what he was doing when he roomed you two together. You tugged your sleep shirt down and lean again the head board, clasping your book from the bedside table - an escape from your own feelings.

But there’s a gaze. It disrupts your senses and you turn your head to meet hot chocolate eyes and a shy smile.

“Thank you for thinking of me.” He whispers, and your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips.

“It’s okay. It’s better than you spraying down the bedsheets.” You jest, and he breathes out a tired laugh. Your eyes hold each others before you glance away to your book, and Spencer grabs his own.

It’s almost domestic. The aircon is at a comfortable, warm temperature (you both hate the cold), the bedsheets are clean, and the lamps are a warm glow that illuminates the room dimly. The only sound is soft breaths and turning pages.

It’s the calmest you’ve been in years.

It’s 2:34am, and Spencer’s just woken up to the soft whispers emitting from your side of the bed. He lifts his head, curious and somewhat concerned. You could be having a nightmare, or maybe you’re sick - or maybe you simply couldn’t sleep. But no, it was none of those.

You warned him.

“Spencer.”

“Yeah?” His voice croaks, confused. You were still. He rubs his eyes and tries to make out if you’re awake or not.

“Oh, you’re here?”

Spencer furrowed his brows and then widened his eyes, ‘I’m an active sleeper’.

“Don’t leave, okay?” You continue, and he smiles, laying his head back down. The pillows are flat on the bed, a consequence of your own sleeping habits, and it gives Spencer a perfect view.

Your hair is sprawled over the pillow, one piece covering your right cheek as you face him with a calm expression.

“I won’t.” He replies, heart aching a bit at your longingfull words. It’s silent for a few seconds before your hand reaches over the pillow, just falling short of his shoulder.

“But you’re so… far away.” You pout in your sleep and his heart crumbles. Spencer has no idea what you’re dreaming over, but whatever it is seemed solemn. He hesitantly outstretched his hand to wipe that piece of hair away, but he stopped short when you continued, “I don’t like it when you’re far away… m’feel lost…”

He picks up the barrier pillows and softly places them lower on the bed, shuffling forward slowly and laying his head down on his pillow (that’s now only a few inches away from yours). You smile in your sleep before going calm again, and Spencer thinks you’ve finished your sleep-talking before you let out one more soft whisper.

“That’s better.”

You wake up on your back, feet resting on a pillow and body entangled in the soft duvet. And Spencer’s there laying on his stomach, elbows pointed out and sleeping face angled towards yours. He looks gorgeous.

His hair is a mess, and there’s a piece stuck in his mouth, but his skin looks slightly tan and so clear. His eyelashes flutter slightly but he doesn’t wake - you try not to focus on how his shirts ridden up.

You turn towards him and lift the blanket up to cover his back. The warmth of the room, and the scent emitting from the man beside you lulls you to ignore the time crunch of your early flight, and drift back into the best sleep you’ve had in years.

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ JJK BOYS V.S. PLUSHIES

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! what will they do when you have plushies on your bed… / author's note. these are all lowk the same just variants im sorry i #hadnomoreideas

SATORU fights every urge in his body to not punch, throw, or kick your plushies off your bed. seeing them makes him mad. the word plushies makes him want to scream, he can't even control himself. like, they get to sleep with you every night?! he hates strongly dislikes whenever you get a new plushie and show it off to him. once you leave your room, oh boy, he is punching all of your plushies one by one. and not even a light punch; he is punching as hard as he can. (in the face, mind you) he gets a little carried away, unknowingly being loud as hell, and is laughing a little. you are confused and a little worried, so you decide to go check on satoru.. and what a scene you walked into! all of your plushies are now on the ground, with the sole survivor being your favorite, still on the bed. satoru has your favorite plushie in a chokehold while he blabs about how it'll regret even being made and gives it another punch with his other hand. he hasn't noticed your presence yet due to the heat of the moment, but when he does, he awkwardly drops your plush and looks at you like nothing had happened. you burst out laughing while he mumbles how he was just “fluffing them up”.

YUTA doesn't mind them at all. after all, he also has plushies to help him sleep at night, and he adored you ten times more once he found out that you did too. one day, the two of you have a sleepover, and he brings all of his plushies over.. oh boy! the moment he showed up at your front door with bags and bags of plushies, your jaw dropped. (there was one even balanced on top of his head) yuta was honestly more of a plushie addict than you. when he laid out his plushies on your bed, it was filled. wherever you laid, you would squish a few plushies. despite all the plushies, the two of you end up cuddling each other anyway. (half of them had fallen off the bed by the end of the night)

SUGURU is genuinely not bothered by your plushies. they're inanimate objects; why would he be bothered? they're cute, and he can count on them to help you sleep at night when he's not present. he also likes to buy you more plushies because of the way your face lights up when you see them, he can't get enough. every morning, after (the majority) of your plushies have fallen off the bed, he tenderly helps you arrange them back in their place. suguru even begins to give each one of your plushies a name (if you didn't already name them) and a little backstory. his personal favorite is a pair of plushies that reminds him of you and him.

YUUJI has mixed feelings about your plushies. yes, they're cute, but sometimes, when he sees you cuddling one, he wants to snatch it and replace it with himself. over time, he notices how you're always holding or cuddling the same plushie. sure, everyone has their favorites, but you have other ones, so why not switch them up every once in awhile? he decides to ask you why one day, and when you respond that it simply reminded you of him, he nearly passes out. he was hyperventilating, screaming, and everything in between. from that day on, yuuji has loved your plushies and even bought you variants of whatever plushie you said that looked like him.

MEGUMI tries to convince himself that he does not care about your plushies. they're cute and all, but he can't help but feel jealous of them. sometimes. whenever he has to be out and about, you send pictures to him throughout the day, and sometimes your plushie is sneaked into the photo at your side, and he can't help but feel annoyed. that plushie could've been him, but gojo had unfortunately dragged him out that day. he mentally groans as he types out a response, trying to sound as nice as he can. at first typing, “get that stupid plush away from you rn” before hastily deleting it and just sending, “pretty”. after megumi gets dragged around by gojo (yuuji and nobara magically appeared too) for six hours, he can finally go home. when he walks in, you're on the couch watching whatever random movie you had turned on out of boredom, and that stupid plushie is still by your side. he walks a little closer, and you're literally hugging it. megumi sighs before walking up next to your seat and gently snatching the plushie out of your hold before sitting down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

[spencereidluver]

L is for Lover Boy

december 14, 2008

summary:  After you have to drive back to your apartment for the third time in two days to get stuff, Spencer clears out two drawers in his dresser for you while you're gone and can't wait to show you.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: just lots of fluff and spence being a good bf

“No, don’t go,” Spencer says as he gently claws at your hips trying to pull you back into him. You were cuddled up with him on the sofa in his living room watching some documentary he’d put on. This was your third day at Spencer’s house, having come over Friday after work and spending the night, then being begged not to leave, so after paying a quick visit to your home in order to get a toothbrush, clothes, and anything else your heart desired, you returned to Spencer’s apartment for a second night. 

“Spencer, baby, I have to,” you try to pry his hands from your hips, though he is a lot stronger than he looks. He gets a hold of you, pulling you onto his lap. He starts to tickle your ribs, making you hunch over him. You try to push his hands away, but ultimately fail as you yell his name between giggles.

“Stay and I’ll stop,” he smiles into your neck. 

“One more night,” you say and grab his wrists in order to calm his movements. “But I have to go home and get work clothes, so let me go.”

He pouts, but obliges. It’s so hard to tell such a sweet boy no, plus falling asleep in his arms every night is something you could see yourself getting used to.

“Fine, but hurry. I want to cuddle,” he sighs.

You lean down, planting a kiss on his forehead and fluffing his hair with your fingers. “I love you, Spencie,” you say. “I love you.”

You trudge to the door of his apartment, slipping your shoes and coat on and grabbing your keys. “I’ll be back,” you call out to Spencer before you exit the apartment and make your way to the stairs and out to your car.

_____

At your apartment, you grabbed the one clean work outfit you still had and tossed it over your shoulder. You’d been at Spencer’s place so much recently you hadn’t done laundry in weeks. He was gonna be sad when you broke the news that tonight was the last night. For now anyways. You loved staying with Spencer… The only issue was all your stuff was at your house. 

You studied the walls of your apartment. How was it that a place you’d been so comfortable in for so long had become barren? How was it that Spencer’s presence is truly what made you feel at home? You neared the entryway of your unit, letting your fingers track on the surface of the wooden table to the side of the door. You brought your hand up to your eye level: Dust. Your apartment had sat empty for so long that even the most communal surfaces had become neglected. Normally you’d stop to wipe the dust clean, but right now, all that was filling your consciousness was returning to Spencer. You grabbed the pack of gum off the dust-covered table and clenched your keys in your fist. You rush out the door of your apartment and head straight for the elevator. 

_____

You’re practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back into Spencer’s apartment complex. You take the stairs as you don’t see waiting on the elevator as time efficient since you’re only going up to the second floor. As you approach his unit, you slow your steps, careful not to alarm any of the tenets. You reach his door, shuffling the items in your hands in order to knock. Two hits of your fist on the wood and the golden number “twenty-three” is replaced by a smiling Spencer Reid. 

“Hey Spence,” you say, handing over the bag in your arms as he’d grabbed the strap, signaling he wanted to take it from you. He was always chivalrous: opening doors, wrapping you in his sweaters, buying you flowers, and this was another example of such. He always carried your bag for you, even if he had his own. If there was anything Spencer could do to make your day the slightest bit simpler, he was jumping to it. His world revolved around making you happy. And he did a damn good job of it. 

“Hi, how was your apartment?” He asked as he stepped aside so you could enter his. He followed you, shutting the door and turning the lock behind him. 

“It was alright,” you said. “Just how I left it.” You watched as he placed your bag gently on the counter. He was always extremely gentle with your things, even if he didn’t need to be. He cared as much for your things as he did for you, and treated all things, great or small, as if they were as delicate as his love for you. 

“That’s good, I’m glad no one had intruded in your absence.” He turned his attention away from the direction of the counter and toward you. His eyes focused on your face, studying you. “Hey, I want to show you something,” he said as he brought his hand up to meet your waist. He pulled you into a hug, letting his hands linger on you after you’d pulled back. He stared at you for a moment before pulling you back into him, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was rough- like getting hit by a bus. A very pleasant bus, but a bus nonetheless. His hands gripped on your waist, surely leaving marks, as his lips moved feverishly into yours. 

You giggled into his kiss, pushing him away gently by his chest. He gives a small pout which makes you feel a bit bad, so you lean to give him one last small peck. He smiles. 

“Sorry,” he says, his cheeks forming a light blush, “I just love you.” His hands fall from your waist. He shuffles to the front of you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him as he leads you to his bedroom. 

“I love you, Spence,” you say while trailing behind him. “So much. Now, what are you showing me?” He drops your hand as you enter his room, moving it to the small of your back and giving you a slight shove in the direction of one of his closet.

Spencer’s closet was a small room jutting out of the wall adjacent to the door. In it was a six drawer chest, a floor mirror, and a horizontal rod that harbored his polo shirts, sweaters, and suit jackets. In front of the mirror sat his three pairs of shoes- his black converse, his brown leather dress shoes, and his black suede dress shoes. Typically, his converse were just thrown in front, as they were his most common choice and he didn’t see the effort to put them back nicely every single time was worth it. You took notice of the fact that they were set up nicely like the two pairs of dress shoes, him even having tied them to make it more visually appealing. You also noticed the knickknacks he had atop his dresser had been rearranged, and some books had been relocated from somewhere. 

“You cleaned your closet!” you said, reaching out to fondle the Curta calculator that was placed on the edge of the dresser. 

“I did,” he responded, still having ahold of your back. “Open the bottom drawers.” 

You were a bit confused. Why was he giving you a closet tour? What could possibly be so intriguing about the contents of these drawers that he had to give you the rundown? You obliged nonetheless, partially because you were curious, but mostly because you could sense his excitement and knew this was a big thing for him. 

Leaning down to grab the parallel knobs on the very bottom drawer, you braced for something slightly heavy, a wooden drawer filled with clothing, but were taken aback when the drawer practically flew open. It was empty. You were confused. Was he getting a head start on spring cleaning? Maybe you just opened the wrong drawer. You silently opened the next drawer up, it being empty as well.

You stood and faced Spencer who had a big goofy grin on his face. You furrowed your brows at him, softening your voice to say, “I’m confused.”

“It's for you,” he said, still with his dorky smile. “I just thought, since you’ve been staying here so often, and I really hate to have you traveling to and from your apartment for five minutes every other day, maybe you could store some of your clothes and things here.”

“Spencer, I-”

You must’ve had a passive tone because his smile faded as the words fell out your mouth.

“I-if you don’t want to then I understand, I know we really just started dating and rushing things is statistically bad for relationships, and I’m n-not saying you should move in with me, I just-”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, desperate to save him from his pointless embarrassment. His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, almost as if he’s pleading. “Spence, this is so sweet,” you say, “it’s perfect.”

His smile, though more calm this time, returns. “Really?” he asks.

“Really. Such a good idea too.” You ruffle his hair. “I love you.”

His smile widens, his eyes squinting from the contortion of his cheeks. 

He can barely spit out an “I love you too,” before his expression changes to one of remembrance. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, “I also took my books out of this nightstand, you can put stuff in there too.” He gestured to the nightstand on the closet side- the right side- your side- of the bed.

‘That’s where those books on the dresser came from,’ you thought to yourself. You glance at the bed, noticing that he’d not only done your laundry, but also folded your clothes and separated them by outfits for you. 

“Wow,” you say as your hand grazes the fabric of the folded clothing, “you really didn’t have to do all this, Spencer.”

“I know,” he said, “but I wanted to.” He picks up one of the stacks of your clothing off the bed and carries it the few steps to the closet. “You want to go ahead and put these in here?” He gestures toward the dresser.

“Sure, these can be my ‘Spencer’ clothes!” 

He giggles at your little pun. That was something you loved about Spencer; no matter how bad a joke you made was, he always laughed. Maybe he was just being nice, but it made you feel good, so you weren’t complaining.

_____

You awoke before Spencer for the first time since you’ve been staying over. 

‘Doing all that rearranging last night must’ve really knocked him out,’ you thought.

You lied still in his embrace, careful not to move a muscle. He was lying on his back, left arm tucked underneath you, right draped across your waist. You lied on your stomach, left leg wrapped around his hips, the other down parallel to his. Your head rested on his chest allowing you to hear every breath taken by him. You were worried if you moved even a tiny bit it would stir him awake and this would end. You were far too comfortable in his arms and with your thoughts to do such a thing. 

Unintentionally, you found yourself matching his breathing patterns. You found yourself unintentionally matching a lot of Spencer’s mannerisms as of recently. Granted, you spent almost all your time with him, but you could never have ‘too much’ Spencer Reid. You thought about what he said last night: “I know we really just started dating.” While technically he was correct, it had only been three months since your first date, and a little over two since you guys had become official, it felt like a lifetime with him. Maybe this was because you were just as close before, the only difference now being that you kiss. Sometimes you have to remind yourself this is his first relationship. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were weary to begin the relationship at first, though now you’re more than happy you did. Spencer has been the best decision of your life. Turning him from your nerdy best friend to the love of your life has been the best decision. He was perfect. 

Spencer stirred beneath you, rolling over and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You reached your hand up, tangling it in his hair, and gently ran your nails through his scalp. He brought his knees up toward his chest, now lying in a loose fetal position with his legs tucked into the gap yours left. He was like a baby. Your baby. 

You could hear his breath getting caught in his throat as his body fought to stay asleep. 

“Hey,” you whispered softly into his ear as you let your hand trace down his hairline to cup his jaw. He gave you a small groan in response, being awake but not yet conscious. 

“Spence baby,” you hummed. You tilted his face up toward you while rubbing your thumb back and forth on his sharp jawline. You pressed several small kisses on his forehead. From the way he was leaning into you, it was obvious he was awake. You looked down at him, his eyes still shut.

“G’morning,” Spencer mumbled as his eyes fluttered open and met yours. 

“How’d you sleep?” You brushed a stray piece of hair from in front of his eyes.

“Pretty good. I uh, I had a dream about you.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. We were just reading. You know, actually they say when you dream of your partner it means you’re wanting to spend more time with them, which is strange because aside from when you went home for an hour last night we’ve been together for the past 56 hours with no cases as a distraction. That’s the longest time we’ve been together.”

Only Spencer could wake up and immediately start sharing facts.

“Maybe it means you enjoyed the last 56 hours and wish for them to continue, rather than for them to come into existence since they already have.”

He smiles at you, in awe. “That- that’s a really good point.” “You’re not the only smart one, Dr. Reid.” You boop his nose to acknowledge that you’re teasing him. Spencer sometimes struggles with social cues; it doesn’t take a genius to know that. You always try your hardest to do something to let him know you’re just teasing. 

He’s still smiling. “Y/n, you never fail to amaze me.” 

His eyes sparkle in the light. More than usual. A tear falls from his left eye. He’s crying.

You wipe the tear away and grab his chin, lifting up toward you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, using your soft voice again. Another set of tears falls from his eyes.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” he said, “I just…” His voice hitched. Tears stream down his face seemingly uncontrollably. “I just love you so much, Y/n.”

“I love you, Spencer.” You say earnestly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his salty, tear soaked, lips. He melted into the kiss instantly, chasing your lips as you pulled away. 

“Please, Y/n. Kiss me,” he said, sitting up to allow easier access. You sat up as well, criss-crossing your legs in front of you to match Spencer. You lean forward, grabbing ahold of his thighs to keep yourself from face planting into him. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s pressing his lips onto yours. You taste his tears with every opening of your mouth. He still has morning breath, you know you do too, but that taste belongs to what you call home. This boy, this bed, this room, this apartment; it's your home.

_____

next chapter: M is for Merry Christmas

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: hi! long time no see... i'm really sorry for my unannounced absence :( i got really busy with school and work and just had a major burnout. i'm really gonna try to push some stories out for you guys as i really do enjoy writing them and seeing your guys' reaction to them. thank you guys for sticking with me

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

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[siriustar8]

Headache - @jegulus-microfic - 235 words

Regulus had the worst migraines ever.

Whenever he as much as passed by a crowd of loud gryffindors, walked the grounds when it's sunny, or played a long match of quidditch, he always ended up with his head pounding and eyes watering, unable to move or speak. He would need complete silence, as little light as possible, and a long nap. 

When he started dating James, extroverted cheery bubbly James, he thought he would need to keep his distance whenever his temples started to hurt. 

But to his surprise, the moment he mentionned having a headache in the middle of the Halloween party, James dropped everything and pulled him gently towards his dorm room.

He closed the curtains, fluffed up the pillows, and pushed Regulus softly on the bed before tucking him in. 

"Would you like me to stay with you, or do you prefer being alone?"

"James, it's fine. You can go back to your party. I'll just sleep it off."

The frown on James' face was too adorable, when he responded: 

"Baby, that's not what I asked you."

Regulus couldn't deny that the mere thought of his head on James' chest already made the tension in his head lighter, so he pulled his boyfriend by the sleeve and settled next to him, content despite the pain.

Honestly, Regulus should've known that James would be considerate and lovely. It was James after all.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Stability

subby!emo!Wanda Maximoff x G!P!Super soldier!reader

Summary: You are a member of the Avengers, a super soldier, and when Wanda Maximoff joins after losing her brother in Sokovia you see the broken girl before you and vow to pick up the pieces and keep her together.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R has a penis, first time s*x, nipple play, R keeps W on a schedule.

A/N: I wrote this sleep deprived at 7am with the help of @vcdanvers

You provide a stability to Wanda's life that she's never had before. You help keep her in a routine. Wake up, brush teeth, get dressed for training, have breakfast, train, shower, lunch, studying, dinner, down time, brush teeth, meds, bed time. 

You keep her to that routine most days and when she starts having an off day you dim the lights, make a comfy nest in the bed with blankets, pillows, snacks, and drinks. You watch her favorite shows and movies. 

You don't think much about the responsibility you've taken on until you have to leave for a mission and Wanda spirals from the lack of support from you. Though she knows the routine and goes through it, it doesn't feel right without you by her side. Your phone is blown up by her texts and calls and you'd wish this mission would end quickly. 

“How’s she doing?” Nat asks as she makes her way beside you on the bed. The small shitty motel room you two were hiding out in for the mission was stuffy. 

“I think she’s spiraling a bit.” You show Nat your phone, her eyebrows raising. 

“Think? She basically fully relies on you for everything during her days now. She’s a lost puppy. You bring stability to her life and now you aren’t there. I’m surprised she’s actually doing everything.” You bite your bottom lip, letting it fall between your teeth. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about her lying about doing everything. If I don’t remind her of her meds and help her with her makeup she usually forgets.” Nat knew just how important the meds were that Wanda had been prescribed. 

“She relies on you, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. Few more days and we’ll be back home. A few days isn’t going to kill her.” You nodded in agreement as you sunk down into the rough mattress and not fluffed pillows. 

=======

When the quintet lands at the compound you don't even make it off ramp when she tackles into you, knocking you down, but you don't mind a few more bruises. You go to speak, but you're cut off when her lips crash into yours. Instinctively you're pulling her closer, flush against you.

As Nat walks by out of the jet she chuckles, shaking her head, “Tony owes me $1,000.” 

You break the kiss, laughing a bit at the comment from your best friend. Looking at Wanda, a flush on her face and neck makes you smile softly. A hand cupping her cheek that she leans into. You smile softly, leaning in to give her another kiss before lifting the two of you up. “Come on, let's talk about this in our room.” 

Wanda simply nods letting you lead the way. On the way you ask what she's done today, knowing what should have been done and she tells you like she had everyday with her constant updates. She had told you already, seven texts letting you know she had gone through her routine. She would have been studying now if not for your sudden arrival.

Walking into your room smelled distinctly of Wanda, you'd been gone long enough that it was noticeable as soon as you walked in, cherry blossoms. You closed the door, locking it. “Friday. Soundproof the room please and do not disturb mode on.” You called out to the AI of the compound. 

Once you got confirmation your attention was on the brunette. Admiring the face you'd missed so much. Taking in the little details her smudged eyeliner made her look more like a raccoon and you knew she'd fallen asleep with it on more than once without you here. Her lips slightly darkened by the tinted chapstick she uses. Her green eyes sparkling like sea glass under the summer sun. 

You took notice of her nervous habits, pulling at the sleeves of her (your) sweatshirt to pull over her hands, fiddling her fingers back and forth, the very subtle lip bite, and how she was too nervous to look you in the eyes. 

You take a step forward, softly smiling as you cup her cheeks and pick her head up to meet your gaze. “I've wanted that for a long time. I just never wanted to push you or make you uncomfortable.” You knew her wounds were still fresh from Sokovia and you didn't want to take advantage of that. You only ever wanted to be here for her. 

“I didn't realize just what you meant to me until you weren't here…it felt like I lost you while you were away and I know I shouldn't need you, but I do. I crave what you provide everyday and I–I need you Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you. I felt like a zombie without you here.” You took in each word and the inflection in her voice pitched up with each passing second. You could hear the cracking in her words that cracked your heart. 

You held her tightly, pulling her against you. She fit like a puzzle piece. Her arms wrapping around your waist. You kissed the top of her head. “All I want is you, Wands. I want to care for you, I want to love you, I want to be with you.” You could feel your heart flutter at your own words  but even more so at her response.

“That's all I want. Just want you. Want to just be yours.” You felt her pull back, looking up at you. A smile forming on your lips as you lean down for a proper kiss, soft, slow. Your lips moved against one another and you could feel the heat of her magic against your skin. You smile into the kiss, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Someone's excited.” 

Her face burying against your neck as the heat dissipates. She mumbles something and you chuckle, picking her up like you've a hundred times before and she clings onto you. 

She'd only ever clung like this when she'd fallen asleep during team movie nights. You'd carry her back to bed just like this, legs wrapped around your waist, arms around your shoulders, and face buried against your neck. 

You take her to your shared bed and sit at the edge. You aren't expecting it but she grinds her hips against you. A moan crawling up your throat and you feel yourself twitch. Wanda knew already, how could she not? You sleep in your boxer briefs and a sports bra. Most mornings you wake up at half mast. 

She moves faster against you, it's still slow, but you can tell just how needy she is. You're hyper aware even of her. Every roll of her hips and the growing bulge straining against your sweats you had changed into on the jet. 

A soft needy moan comes out of her and that's when you feel it, she's soaking you entirely. A wet spot forming right on your bulge. A deep groan makes its way out of you. 

You can't stand it anymore and flip her onto her back in one single motion. You pull your hard cock out of its confines. You don't bother taking anything off her at this moment. You push her soaked panties to the side. Pushing into her, both of you moaning out at the feeling as you slowly sink inside of her. She takes you beautifully as you bottom out in her. You breathe deeply as you look at her face completely red as you lean down kissing her before starting to pull the sweatshirt and then her shirt. 

You take in her pale skin and the light dusting of freckles, leaning down to take her breast in your mouth, the other with your hand as you slowly move your hips. Your actions elicit soft moans, breathy pleas falling from her lips, and mumbles of Sokovian words. It only eggs you on as you move faster, flicking your tongue against her hard nipple, the other getting twisted gently between your thumb and forefinger. 

You feel her nails claw down your back and sides. You know her nail polish must be ruined from it. You're sure her marks will look lovely with the array of bruises on your back. 

“Ah…feels s'good feels– Ah–” you feel her tighten up around you, finally letting her breast go. Moving yourself up to capture her lips and swallow her moans. You know she won't last much longer as you speed up, setting a brutal pace. Feeling your own orgasm build up. 

“Fuck..I'm gonna cum.” You whisper against her. She tightens at your words.

“Me too–Ah please please need this!” Her pleas were more than enough as you thrust deep, filling her up as she vice grips around you, practically screaming as she cups and you are so thankful for telling Friday to soundproof.

A few hours and a few rounds later you've cleaned Wanda up, showered with her and now lay on the bed, soft kisses as a sitcom plays in the background. You couldn't think of a more perfect place to be than right here with her. 

[bunnycvnts]

new bf! rafe that is slowly, very very slowly, getting used to having a girlfriend that cares about him !!

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

rafe was having a particularly rough day with ward screaming at him to be a better man and running out of gas three blocks from tannyhill, so when you came over that night, his attitude was at an all-time high.

every little thing was ticking him off. from the way his collared shirt was sitting against his skin to the crickets chirping outside, and to the way the tv was far too loud considering how close you were sitting. he was overstimulated, annoyed, and really just needed a fucking break.

when you got up to get a glass of water and your heels clacked against the wood floor, he sort of lost it. “can you- seriously? take the fucking shoes off.”

you paused at the entrance of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing as you turned around slowly to look at your boyfriend. “what?” you weren’t upset; you were just thoroughly confused about his outburst. you’d been together for three months now and had seen your fair share of him being dramatic or moody, but it was rarely ever pointed towards you.

“the heels, they’re driving me fucking nuts, clicking and clacking through the house, and the tv?” he paused to gesture angrily at the screen, “why is it so fucking loud? you’re sitting like six feet away from it.”

your teeth sunk into your lower lip, quickly slipping off your heels and heading back towards rafe, your feet now padding lightly against the floor, almost silently. “is everything okay?” the remote sat in your hand as you spoke, muting the tv effectively. you eyed him cautiously, now noticing the way his hands were fidgeting and his knee wouldnt stop bouncing.

his face scrunched. “yes, everything’s okay; that shits just mad annoying, babe. it’s giving me a fuckin’ headache.” your hand reached out to rub his arm soothingly.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know. how about we go to your room? it’ll be quieter, and you can change out of your clothes from today. i can go home too if you’d prefer. it’s okay.” your words were chosen carefully, bordering on demanding, and you tried to refrain from any tone that sounded condescending. it was easy to spot that he was overstimulated, and you only wanted to help.

“ye-yeah, yeah. let’s go to my room. don’t leave; why would you leave? i told you everything’s fine.” he didn’t know why you were acting this way, and it made his stomach feel weird. you guided him by his hand up the stairs and to his bedroom, speaking quietly as you went.

“i just know you need a minute, baby. that’s all. know you need some peace and quiet. maybe a nap. will help you feel better, promise.” he paused on the stairs at your words, but your hand tugged at his, making him regain movement.

once you both reached his bedroom, you pulled out some gym shorts and a loose t shirt for him to change into, shoving them into his hands. “here, put these on!” you smiled up at him before moving to his bedside table, where he kept matches. lighting one, you held it to a candle you had bought him a few weeks ago. he had noted how great the scent was but felt it was too girly for him to buy a candle— and he wasn’t girly. so, you took it upon yourself to buy it, and the trimmed wick and melted down wax covering the sides didn’t go unnoticed.

rafe changed quickly and leaned against the wall to watch you. the way you moved so efficiently and effortlessly through his room made his heart beat a little faster. you didn’t have to ask where he kept leisure clothes or the matches. you didn’t think twice before pulling the blanket up from the made bed and fluffing the pillows for him. you didn’t even need him to tell you that he hated sleeping with the top sheet, as you knowingly kept it tucked into the mattress. just watching you made his headache lessen, and he didn’t fight when you pulled him off the wall and helped him get situated in his bed.

“do you want some water or medicine?” his head shook at your question, denying it. all he felt like he needed was you. no one had ever paid so much attention to him or knew what made him feel better or worse. no one had taken the time or given the effort to care so lovingly for him. so when you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand running through his hair gently, all he could do was open his arms to gesture you closer. the blonde shuffled even closer to you, resting his head on your stomach, so you could continue massaging his head and playing with his hair.

“nah, just my girl.”

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

ok this is my first writing post pls be nice

taglist: @sunkissedrafe

[fiendishfables]

Can I please request dom! Lucifer eating you out? I just know that man is very talented with his tongue

a/n: say less, really; short and sweet lovin' from Luci

warnings: nsfw, eating out, cursing, dom dom Luci

words: 676

additional notes: Thank you all so much for 110+ followers! It means the world to me that you guys enjoy my writing so much!

"Luxury of the King."

Dom! Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

The white, silk sheets beneath you rustled softly. Gentle puffs of air left your lips, saliva coating their plush surface in a light layer. The familiar black dots began aligning along the edges of your vision. Chest rising and falling with erratic patterns; a light sheen of sweat adorning your brow, seeping lightly into your hairline. You felt and looked like the epitome of an absolute wreck.

And it was all because of the man who's head was currently buried between your legs.

Despite your clear state of overstimulation, he was a relentless predator. Well, his forked tongue, rather. It worked against and inside you, like you would be the last thing it ever got to taste. Flicking against you, tasting all of the sweet nectar you had to provide for him. He was determined to eat you dry.

"I-I'm sorry, darling. You just taste s-so...fuck...so damn good."

His mouth continued its assault against you, making sure to take his time and devour you all in the same set of actions.

If he could just stay in between your legs all hours of the day, oh how he could die a happy man. No worries or strife, just you splayed out for him, presenting yourself as a canvas for his tongue to travel. He gulped at the thought.

You truly were the best luxury a king like himself could have.

Lucifer knew he didn't deserve you. He always asked himself how he got so damn lucky with happening upon you, but he never got too curious upon questioning, nor greedy when it came to your services. This was enough to take him all the way to Heaven and back. What more could he possibly ask for, other than your lovely company?

He noticed how your hips were now beginning to move more, as if trying to get away from his relentless tongue. Just the thought of your sweet taste being abandoned from his warm, forked muscle made his pupils slit and eyes narrow. In response, he placed a gentle yet authoritative hand on your lower tummy, pushing your trembling hips downwards to the mattress; that's where they were to stay until he was done with you. You were a gift from Heaven he was sure, and Hell be damned if he didn't savor it. Just thinking that seemed like madness. Lucifer wanted to taste everything you had to offer him. Every. Single. Thing.

"Stay still. Don't you dare try to move away from me." He growled, voice dropping much lower than its normal octave, causing you to flinch in surprise. His head had come up and out from between your legs, almost enticing a whine from your throat at the loss of stimulation, yet a sigh of relief at the same time for the smidgen of a break you were currently being blessed with.

The sudden change in his attitude was a bit of a surprise, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't hot as hell. The puppy dog side of your boyfriend was what you were most used to, so seeing him act this way instead was a very nice change of pace. You could never be scared of him; your safe word was always at your disposal if you felt he was being too demanding or rough, and he knew it too. So unless you used it, he would continue with his advances.

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes and offered the best nod you could manage with the state you were in, letting your head fall back to its original position on the fluffed pillows, lungs grasping for any sort of air they could muster up.

He gave a low nod back, a sly smile gracing his lips as he licked around them in order to clear off the remnants of your juices that he had yet a chance to devour like the other servings he managed to obtain.

"Good..." He said with a pointy smirk, before lowering his head once again to get right back to work.

[lizthewriter]

messy / regina george

PAIRING  regina george x fem!reader

SUMMARY  you and regina have been secretly hooking up for months, but she breaks up with you when you ask for more. after she gets hit by a bus, you fear for her life and whatever relationship you have left.

TAGS  regina george x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, queer!, reneé rapp is so fine 😫😫, internalized homophobia, use of d-slur (lesbian slur)

QUOTE  "half of all my exes regret me, / but none of them will ever forget me, / loving me gets really messy," - messy by reneé rapp

WRITTEN  1.13.2024

WORD COUNT  1.3K

A/N everytime reneé showed up on screen, i literally started banging my fists against my seat because she SERVED CUNT!!!! SHE WAS SO FINE!!!! literally after the movie, my best friend said to me: "i think you're just gay. i think you're a woman kisser. you might just have a little fruit in your cup."

slammed up against the wall, you felt regina's teeth clash furiously against yours. it was all hot passion - how your lips ran feverishly against hers as though you'd never get to feel her touch again, the way her hands ran up and down the sides of your body as though she needed to memorize the shape of you. days the two of you had gone without a moment to yourselves. days you had spent fantasizing about her pressing you up against the wall. it wasn't that you didn't want a normal relationship. it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss and hold hands and go on cute dates, but . . . that wasn't regina's style. she was closeted. heavily. actually, you weren't sure that she even understood that making out with girls was perhaps the most gay thing she could do, but you were willing to take what you were given. it was regina george, after all.

she pulled away from you by biting gently down on your lip, letting go when she could no longer stretch it any longer. "god, you're so hot," she whispered with a smirk, unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt. she reclaimed the control she had over your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone. your hands somehow found their way to her beautiful blond locks, scraping her scalp with the sharp edge of your nails. fantasy was nothing like reality. you had forgotten how good it felt, but how terrible it was all at once. as her warm breath tickled your skin, doubts that had been haunting you the past few days filled your mind slowly. was this healthy? didn't you deserve a healthy queer relationship, one that would be open and free and full of love, real love?

you wanted it all. you wanted the life you saw other queer girls have all around the world. going on cute picnic dates with homeade muffins and favorite books, sitting in the lap of your partner and doing their makeup, snuggling on the couch while watching a movie. holding hands while strolling the town center. it was hard to keep these thoughts back any longer. they overflowed.

you felt regina freeze as you gently pushed her away from where she had latched onto your upper chest. "can we, um, talk?" you ask. she could hear the tone in your voice. you knew she could. the way her eyes met yours made your stomach twist with discomfort.

"talk?" she asked in an incredulous tone, pulling away.

"it's just that, well, hear me out first. i like you. i really like you, a lot! that's why i really want us to be more than . . . making out in the custodian's closet after school and sneaking into your room while your mom's asleep," you explained nervously, stumbling over your words. finally able to meet her eyes, all hope was shattered as you felt her icy stare fixed upon your flushed face.

"i thought we made a deal when we started this. nothing more than this." she barked out a bitter laugh and fluffed out her hair. "what, did you think i was some kind of dyke or something? this was supposed to be fun. nice job stamping out that fire." she opened the door to the closet and waltzed out like nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend the entire last three months building a bond. heart: broken.

-

fear couldn't describe the emotion you felt driving to the hospital. it was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, heart-tearingly excruciating. the rumors swirling around made your sick with worry. could she really be dead?

you weren't there when it happened. you had been driving home and then doing homework, hiding your phone away in a drawer somewhere to keep you distracted. it wasn't until hours later that you checked your notifications to realize she had been admitted to the er.

you rushed into the hospital, demanding to hear about her condition.

"are you immediate family?" the nurse at the desk asked. of course you lied. of course you said yes. she gave you the room number and told you that you could wait in the hall - the doctors were talking with her mother and you would need to wait until she woke up herself.

when you arrived at the door to her room, you were afraid to look inside. you weren't sure why. she was alive, yes. maybe you were afraid she was still upset with you. or worse, she had amnesia and forgot about you completely. dejected, you collapsed into the very comfortable plastic chair next to her room.

a few minutes later, the door opened and the doctors and mrs. george exited the room. you stood up suddenly, expectant in your expression.

"she's fine. she's going to heal 100%, she just needs to wear a corrective neck bracelet for several weeks," the doctors assured you. you could relax, just a little. they walked down the hall, chatting softly. mrs. george grinned at you - you had met before, of course, being introduced as one of regina'a friends.

"well, look who we have here! did you hear the news? they said my name on the evening," she told you excitedly, as though her daughter weren't stuck in the hospital from injuries resulting for being hit. by a bus. "head on in darling, those cute boys said she'd be awake soon." her eyes trailed down the hall to the two doctors that had revived regina. with a mini-wave and a "toodle-doo!" she was down the hall and full on flirting with men much younger than herself.

the doorknob to regina's room stared back at you with intimidation so strong you almost turned around and drove home. you reached out a closed your hand around the cool metal, slowly turning it until you were passing through the doorway and standing feet away from her bed. it didn't feel as scary as you thought, entering her room, staring over at her bed. she looked more at peace then you had ever seen her, she looked prettier than you had ever seen her. without her mean-girl face, she seemed a lot more genuine. a lot more like the regina that opened up to you that one chilly night in december.

you silently pulled a chair next to her bed and sat there, waiting for her to wake up. you didn't mind the wait, in a way. because she was sitting there next to you, and she was going to be okay.

when regina awoke, she seemed more confused than anything. her brows furrowed as she looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on you.

"hey," you said all of a sudden, sitting up straight. "you're okay, you're fine. you're . . . in the hospital."

"what are you doing here?" not snappy or bitter or angry. genuine.

"i heard you got hit by a bus," you said, biting your bottom lip anxiously. would she yell at you? tell you she never wanted to see you again? "i heard . . . i you died. i just had to see for myself, to make sure you were okay. i'm sorry, if you don't want me here, i'll -"

"don't leave!" she shouted, grabbing your hand. you stared down at the place where her skin met your hand. this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. her fingers intertwined with yours and you find her eyes to be pleading you. "please, just don't leave."

"regina -"

"just shut up and listen, okay?" she told you, sounding upset, but it didn't seem to be an emotion she was directing towards you. you sat back down and scooted your chair closer to her. "i want us to be something more too . . . okay? i like you, loser."

you narrowed your eyes at her. "is this regina george trying to be nice?" you asked dubiously.

"don't ruin the moment or i'm taking everything i said back."

"no," you said quickly, shaking your head with a smile. you placed your other hand on the one clasped in hers. "it's a good look on you. really."

[infiniteimaginings]

Could you write some angsty Anthony bridgerton x wife reader. Maybe he took his anger out on her cus he was stressed or something.💋😭😫🩷

A Loving Marriage (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Anthony had married you, he adored you during your courtship. He showed his affections through floral arrangements, joyous laughter, your dance card always had his name first. When he married you though, some things changed. He would be warm, but it slowly dimmed. He was always in his office, he never spoke to you, why does he do so? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: Angst Word Count: 4.0k A/N: I love angst, I love it! I looked at this request three times, midnight struck, and I turned into a writing goblin.

It had been a nice day, you had finally drawn your husband, Anthony Bridgerton, out of the house to have a delightful picnic with you. The two of you were discussing anything but pressing matters, laughing, eating the small sandwiches, drinking the sweet but tart lemonade. Occasionally your fingers would touch, a burst of energy escaping into your bodies until your fingers interlocked, accepting the warmth with open arms.

The sun was shining brightly, the clouds perfect white and fluffed into shapes the two of you pointed out and playfully teased each other for. The slight tilt of his head when you spoke of a cloud being shaped as one thing, his squinted eyes and scrunched nose were all that mattered to you. The way the sun kissed his skin and a few freckles had come to light, it was so beautiful to you, he was so beautiful.

When Anthony turned his gaze to you from the heavily brightened sky, the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile he gave you. His toothy grin was matched with him asking, “What is it?” You paid no mind to the question, simply smiling at your husband, your heart warming as you stared at him in adoration. You shook your head, “I just love you.” You told him, the comment making him smile wide, his teeth showing in his grin. The day was beautiful, and neither of you could deny that fact. To make the day even more beautiful, flowers were spread around your blanket on the ground, showing proof of spring.

You began to ramble a bit about the newest items you saw in the shop, Anthony just listening with loving eyes. A bee had hummed and buzzed as it circled around your head, when Anthony noticed he straightened up, his eyes widening a bit in fear. He went to move the dreadful creature from you but the bee had found its attention with him instead, buzzing around his head. Anthony had fallen still, horrified.

Anthony had just returned from shooting with his father, Edmund Bridgerton. The elder man had clasped his shoulder, telling him that in due time he will be able to show someone his best. He gave him a truthfully meaningful message about having to show someone your worst before you can show them your best, but the message didn’t stay in Anthonys head very long.

The elder had noticed a group of vibrant purple Hyacinths within their gardens, his wife's favorite flower. He decided to pick the flowers with a hum, expressing how Anthonys mother would love them. The younger boy laughed and began to pick a few himself, his father standing up, swatting a very persistent bee, Anthony shaking his head playfully. He expressed how his younger sister would be quite jealous until he noticed his father had not responded.

”Father?” Anthony spoke, turning to Edmund, the man was touching his neck. “The bloody thing stung me.” He told his son, moving his hand a bit with a twitch of his mouth. A bee sting didn’t mean much, so Anthony nodded and continued to pick a few flowers until his father began to gasp for breaths. Anthony stood, walking to Edmund, “Father, what is it?” He asked, and that question would be repeated a multitude of times with no verbal response.

Edmund Bridgerton had turned to his son, a bright red patch on his neck where the bee stung him, his face extremely pale, his eyes almost black as he struggled to breathe. Anthony watched his father struggle for air and collapse into his arms. He couldn’t even hear when he yelled for someone to help, he didn’t even hear when his pregnant mother, Violet Bridgerton, had come running down the small hill after seeing them through the open door in the back of their home.

Everything happened so fast and all Anthony could process was his father reaching up to cup his mothers cheek one last time, before his hand fell and the light left his eyes. Edmund Bridgerton died that day, Violet Bridgerton became a widow that day, he and his siblings lost their father that day.

Anthony was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when you swatted the bee away mindlessly. You hummed with a breathless chuckle, “You know it’s spring when the bees are out.” you spoke, looking in the basket for another small snack, unaware of the daze Anthony had just been in. He blinked a bit, looking around as he deeply inhaled, trying not to ruin your nice moment. He clapped his hands to his knees, “Well then.” He began, “I think I have some paperwork to attend to.” He told you, standing up and brushing himself off. You looked up rather quickly from your spot on the blanket, “Can’t it wait? We were having such a nice time.” You said, pouting ever so slightly.

He shook his head, leaning down to you, pressing his lips to yours in a short kiss. “Unfortunately it can not, enjoy the rest of the picnic.” He spoke hastily, walking back into the home, leaving you alone to watch the sky.

Days had passed, Anthony had not joined you again for a picnic, nor had he joined you for any sort of meal after that day. You didn’t understand why he felt the need to lock himself in his office, what was so interesting about paperwork he could tend to at any time? You were worried for him, you knew the footmen in the household brought him food, you just weren’t sure if he ate any of it.

With that, you decided to pay your husband a visit. You dismissed the footman at the door and simply knocked, a muffled ‘Come in’ came from the other side of the door. You gently opened it, smiling sweetly at Anthony who looked up at you, expressionless. You closed the door behind you, observing your surroundings and your husband who sat behind a desk, papers piling it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, if he had then he looked like her hadn’t slept well.

You walked to him, slow steps, the heels of your shoes sounding muffled as they clicked upon the polished floors. “You’ve locked yourself away.” You told him, standing in front of his desk, fingers twiddling in front of you. Anthony kept his eyes on you, quill pen in hands, plenty of papers around that needed signatures. He cleared his throat, “Well, some matter can not be left.” He told you simply, head looking back down to his work.

You walked around the desk, hands smoothing along his shoulders, he tensed more than relaxed. “You need a break.” You hummed to him, gently pressing your hands into the blades of his shoulders. Anthony leaned his head back into the chair, sighing, “I’m sorry my love, I just have so much work to do.” He told you with closed eyes, his mouth in a frown. Your expression mirrored his and you turned his chair a bit, taking his hands in yours. “We should go to town, go for a walk.” You suggested, “Maybe we could pick some flowers and visit your family.” You continued on, hands holding his slightly larger ones in yours.

You saying that seemed to invoke some sort of reaction from your husband, he removed his hands from you, “No.” He spoke harshly, turning back to the papers. You huffed, trying to get him to look at you, he wouldn’t budge. “Why do you refuse to spend time with me? Is your paperwork that important?” You pressed on, standing at his side, pure disbelief on your face.

Anthony put his clenched fists on the desk, “Yes, it is!” He spoke loudly, not looking at you. “You are interrupting very pressing matters, so go.” He told you, head turning to you ever so slightly, one hand raised to point to the door.

The outburst had shocked you, you stood there with a hand to your chest, a frown on your face, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Anthony I merely hoped…” You began, trying to find the words, instead you found yourself stumbling over them. Anthony shook his head, hand to his temple as he looked back down to the papers, “I care not for your wishes, leave!” HeYou stood up straight, swallowing harshly with a small sniffle. You bowed your head to him, “Of course Mr. Bridgerton.”You spoke, walking out the room, hands clasped together and head held high as you left him alone to his work.

Anthony had not come to the bedroom that night and you had not visited his office for the rest of the day. Neither of you had come down for dinner, eating respectively in separate rooms.

The next day, mid afternoon, you walked into the office area with a tea tray. Typically, a maid would bring it in for you, but you had seemed to reject the idea and believed you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. Anthony had heard the sound of the door opening, no knock, no announcement. He looked up and saw you setting the tea tray on the low table in front of the seats in the office. The tray had two teacups and saucers, a teapot with freshly brewed tea, a sugar bowl, a milk jug, and a strainer. All of which were porcelain with multicolored, delicately painted flowers and the Bridgerton name along the side.

Anthony sighed deeply, he didn’t look irritated, he just looked tired. “ Did I not tell you to leave me be?” He asked since you had not greeted him. You didn’t look at him as you prepared your cup of tea, “That is such a way to speak to your wife Mr. Bridgerton.” You spoke sarcastically, stirring in your sugar and taking a small sip to see if it were to your tastes. A warm smile formed on your face after you drank the warm liquid, sitting comfortably in the chair a little ways across from Anthony's desk, a table in the way of you being directly in front of his desk.

Anthony clasped his hands together, elbows on the desk, “What are you doing?” He asked, lips pursed. You placed your cup on the saucer, “If you truly believe I will let you sit in this office and rot,” You spoke, finally looking at him, “you are gravely mistaken.” You told him, expressionless. Anthony tilted his head to the side, he didn’t believe he was ‘rotting’ in the office space, but he couldn’t speak since you beat him to it. “I shall remain here and tend to you until you see fit to conduct yourself as a gentleman.” You stated, hands in your lap, straightening your posture, “Or to put sourly,” You began, “an adult.”

“Do not treat me like a child.” Anthony told you, hands dropping back to the desk, no movement towards the quills.

“Then do not act like one.”

“What has prompted this?”

You pretend to think for a moment, pulling up your hand to count, “Your blatant disregard for your wife in your own home,” You spoke as you put up a finger, “your refusal to acknowledge her presence or engage with her” you continued, putting another finger up, “or even talk to her.” You finished, putting up the last finger, slightly glaring at him.

There was silence from Anthony as he bit the inside of his cheek, twitching his nose. Due to the silence, you continued to speak, “I vowed to cherish and support you through all, but I will not endure your silence.” You explained, shaking your head a bit with your words. Anthony sighed, moving a few papers out of his way, “You are aware that traditionally wives do not-”

“You did not marry me due to my traditional nature.”

There was more silence from your husband until he ran a hand through his hair. “You will not leave until I discuss ill with you?” He asked, seeming to be contemplating the idea that he just spoke into existence. You nodded, “Precisely.”

“Very well, let’s discuss ills.”

The Bridgerton man stood from his desk and strode to sit next to you. You gestured to the tea and he shook his head, leaning forward, clasping his hands. His leg shook and tapped the floor as he struggled to find the words, “My fathers death left my mother heartbroken, she never remarried.” He spoke suddenly. The words confused you a bit, was that why he had been so closed off? You turned to him fully, crossing your leg over the other, “Your mothers strength,” You began, taking a breath, “is commendable.” You commented, the Brdigerton in front of you chose not to look at you but he nodded. “She said her love for your father was true and her devotion for your father lies strong.” You continued on, thinking about the older woman and how powerful she was for standing strong for her children. “She does not need to marry if she does not wish to.” You completed your thought at his words about his mother.

Anthony put his hands on his knees, straightening himself. He sucked his teeth, “I understand that,” He told you, “but you do not understand how she flinches when they refer to her as Dowager.” He continued on.

At parties they would announce Violet Bridgerton as Dowager VIscountess Bridgerton, and they have for the many years since Edmund Bridgerton had passed.

“My mother remains a widow.” Anthony continued, voice slightly cracking when he thought about the way his mothers hand would tighten around his arm when someone greeted her as ‘Dowager’.

You nodded in understanding, no matter how strong Violet was, it still hurt. You just didn’t process why that caused him to pull from you. “Nevertheless, I am not,” You told him, the words causing him to look put his face in his hands, “hence my lack of understanding of your coldness and sudden refusal to be with me.” You spoke, staring right at him, hands in your lap picking at your nails.

“What if you find yourself a widow?” Anthony asked suddenly, now fully turned to you.

“Pardon me?” You asked blankly, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted.

“What if you find yourself to be a widow?” He repeated, slightly differently.

“If you suspect you may act recklessly, you must inform me at once." You told him cautiously, hand moving towards him, but he pulled back. "My father's passing was but a consequence of being outdoors.” He stated blankly, eyes staring forward, distantly. He never talked about his father's death, it wasn’t a topic he was very open about. “He committed no recklessness, yet the heavens saw fit to claim him.” Anthony's hands were beginning to shake before he clenched them into fists, “A virtuous man, struck down."

“Anthony-”

“What if I do not live a graciously long life?” He asked, head snapping to you, “What if I meet my end, just as young as my father?” He asked another question that you had no answer to other than, “Anthony you will live a long life-”

He stood abruptly, face red, eyes watering, “How could you possibly know that!” He yelled at you, “You do not!” He continued to yell, face such an angry red it almost scared you. He didn’t seem angry though, his eyes were filled with fear, he was scared. You did not expect him to yell or be so emotional, it hurt you deep in your heart to see him look so terrified about what could happen.

Anthony began to pace, hands in his hair and desperately pulling at his collar. “I didn’t even wish to marry,” He told you, seemingly muttering to himself. “I feared leaving my wife alone, especially if we were to have children.” He continued, not gazing at you at all.

You stood, slowly walking to him, “Yet, here you continue to stand,” You said, “alive,and wed.” You reminded him, concern flowing through you as he paced.

He stopped walking, looking at the wedding ring on his finger. “My mother was left with eight children to raise alone.” He mumbled, having to clear his throat from how low he was speaking. “I, the eldest, lost my father when I was eighteen left to carry his title and responsibility.” He spoke to you, reminding himself of all the information he didn’t know when he was eighteen and how he had to figure it all out, how he had to be the man of the house at such a young age. “I do not wish for you and our future child to endure the same fate.”

You were quiet, “Then why did you marry me?” You whispered, your expression was slightly crinkled but you were listening. Anthony had turned to you, a soft but sad expression on his face. He gently held your hands, looking into your eyes. “My affection for you was undeniable.” He confessed, cupping one of your cheeks with his large hand, a bit of sweat dripping down his forehead from being so worked up. “It was so difficult to be inexplicably in love with you and watch for you to have other suitors.” He continued, drawing a breath, “I was drawn to you, as a moth to flame.”

You licked your lips, “Yet, you still harbor fears of leaving me-”

“The responsibility of children and a title you cannot shed unless you remarry.” He interrupted you, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks. He looked at you desperately, desperate for you to understand how he was feeling, but you could not. “Which I have no intention to do.” You retorted to his comment, he is the only man you believe you’ll ever love and nothing will change that.

Anthony nodded, dropping his hands from your face. He remembered how he wasn’t there for his mother, for his family sometimes. “I acknowledge that I was a challenge to deal with for my mother.” He spoke, and you were aware of such things. He had admitted these feats to you during your courtship, during small corners of vulnerability. “I just do not wish for you to face similar struggles alone.” He finished his thought, ultimately refusing to meet your gaze as he found the bookcases to be far more interesting.

You shook your head, “She did not endure it alone.” You stated matter-of-factly. Anthony looked up, eyes blinking in confusion, “What?” He asked you, so you continued. “Your mother, she had you, she had Benedict, Colin, Daphne. All of her children were her solace and support.” You expressed to him, reminding him of all of his siblings. They all had each other, they were all her shoulder to cry on just as she was theirs.

Anthony sighed for the thousandth time within that conversation, “We were not easy children.” He told you. Eloise didn’t wish to marry, he had been such a terrible man of the house in the beginning, Benedict did not wish for the responsibility, Colin rushed into things too quickly, Daphne had so much going on when she was named the diamond of the season, his younger siblings couldn’t even fathom the world they were in.

“No child ever is.” You told him simply, holding his hand gently. This time, he did not pull away.

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek gently and pulling back to look him into his eyes. “Now,” You started, letting out the puff of air that was compressing your chest the entire conversation. “I’d prefer if we do not speak the subject of your demise as if it were to greet us at dawn.” You told him, the comment causing him to chuckle a bit, holding your hand a little tighter. “You will come down for dinner and we will enjoy a meal together.” You told him and he nodded, “I will be down in a moment, I shall see the papers are put away first.” He spoke, looking around to all the papers scattered on his desk and some even on the floor.

You left him to the papers and asked your maid to get dinner started, the woman asking if there were any preferences you wanted. The door had closed and Anthony was soon left alone.

Once the door had closed Anthony had begun to gasp for breath, unbuttoning the top of his shirt for air. His chest began to have as he leaned against the door, tears filling his eyes. He furiously wiped at them, trying so hard to push them back but he couldn’t stop them when a choked sob left his lips. His hands were shaking when they reached his face to wipe at his eyes hurriedly. The topic of conversation was difficult, you were so sure that the two of you would grow old together with your children, that you would not have to worry about being a widow, but Anthony was not so sure.

Everyday he saw a little bit of his father in himself and it terrified him. Such a good man was taken from the world by something as simple as a bee and it scared Anthony of everything around him. Sure, before he was not scared of death, even going as far as to call for a duel where he was prepared to die for his sister's honor. But now, he had you, and he did not wish to leave you.

Anthony shakily clasped his hands in a prayer, praying for all the time in the world to be with you. Praying for more time than his father had, praying for a chance. He muttered small prayers, “Please, I just wish to be with her, I will never ask for anything else.” He cried out quietly, eyes closed, tears pouring from his eyes. “I just want time, time with her, please.” He begged quietly, his prayers in reflection to how lonely he saw his mother was. She had so many children but he knew that his mother wished for his father to be there to help her everyday.

A knock had sounded at the door, the noise caused Anthony to stand quickly and rush to the other side of the room with documents, back to the door. He cleared his throat, sniffling one last time, “Enter.” He spoke, the door opening.

“Lord Bridgerton, dinner is served.” A footman had announced, standing in the doorway.

Anthony put the documents away, wiping his tears without the man noticing. “I shall be there in just a moment's time.” He told the man, putting some documents into the drawers. The man nodded and closed the door, going to inform you of the comment.

The door closed once more and Anthony felt his legs were so weak that he had almost collapsed into the furniture. One of his hands gripped the edge of the drawer, the other clawing at his chest. He felt as if every time he took a breath his chest would tighten, he felt nauseous, dizzy. The room was spinning and his vision was blurry from his tears. It almost seemed as if he were dying, but he was not, everything felt like so much but nothing was happening.

It all felt like too much.

He tried to take a few more deep breaths, the pain ceasing and his vision returning back to normal. He slowly exhaled, blinking and wiping his tears. He clenched his jaw as he stood up straight, muttering some words of ‘man of the house’, ‘loving husband’, ‘time’. He couldn't connect the words even if he tried, all he knew was that he was going to dinner.

All he knew was that his father's words rang in his head, but he kept shaking them from his mind. “You cannot show someone your best without allowing them to see your worst.” If only his father had told him how difficult it was to show someone your worst. How frightening it was to show true vulnerability, to find the words to explain feelings you don’t even understand fully yourself.

[ivoirerose]

designated driver | charles leclerc

a reworking of an old fic of mine. no warnings except drunk idiots and mentions of sex. you have to pick up your drunk boyfriend from a night out.

Come pick your idiot up, he just started rapping Baby Got Back.

The text had come through from Carlos attached to a video of Charles singing along, trail of shot glasses surrounding him, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched the passionate way he belted every word.

You rolled off the couch, shoving your feet into your shoes and grabbing your keys off the counter, answering Carlos with a firm order to not let Charles have any more to drink.

You try stopping him, he’s a menace.

Well you couldn’t argue with that. You tapped in the address Carlos had sent you, pulling up outside of a bar, music blasting from the door as it opened, letting out a group of girls stumbling over their heels.

You texted to say you were outside, watching the door, and when they hadn’t emerged after ten minutes, you decided to go in and get your pack of drunks.

You spotted them almost as soon as you walked through the door, sitting in the corner. Charles had his arms around Pierre's shoulders, the pair now both singing along to Vanilla Ice while Carlos recorded them.

You shook your head as you made your way over to them.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Charles’ gaze shot to you immediately, smile lighting up his face.

“Baby!! Guys, look, it’s my baby. You’re here!” he stood up and stumbled over to you, hands on either side of your face, and you caught a strong whiff of tequila as he leaned close. “You. Are so. Pretty.”

“Thanks Charlie, you too,” you answered as you peeled him off you, raising your eyebrows at Carlos over his shoulder, the other boy just shrugging and gesturing to the glass-littered table.

“Aww, you think so?” Charles blushed, and you fluffed up his hair.

“The prettiest. And you know what pretty boys need? Their beauty sleep. What do you say we get you back, huh?” You asked as he turned to Pierre.

“She thinks I’m pretty,” Charles smugly told Pierre.

“You know who I think is pretty? Kika,” he mumbled. “Hey, I’m gonna call her.”

He went to take out his phone and you rushed over to grab it from him.

“No you’re not because Kika has a big job in the morning and if you wake her up just to tell her how shiny her hair is, she will kill you.”

“Boo! No fun,” he grumbled. “It is shiny though, isn’t it?”

“Super ahiny,” you gave in, pulling him from his seat to stand next to Charles. “Okay, Carlos, you get Pierre, I’ll get Charles.”

“Got it,” he answered, and as he stood up, he stumbled against the chair, crashing to the floor. You watched as he pulled himself up by the table edge. “Woah, Y/N, did you see the way the floor just rose up then?”

You sighed, rubbing your hand over your face.

“Okay, never mind, I’ll get all three of you.” You reached over to grab him, linking your arm through his, Pierre on your other side. “Charles, link with Pierre. No letting go, children, come on.”

You led them through the bar, saving them from a stumble every few steps. You got to the exit when Charles stopped you.

“Wait, wait, baby, this bouncer? Here? He didn’t believe I had the prettiest girlfriend in the world. Can you believe that?” He gestured to the guy manning the door. “And now, she’s here, see, isn’t she the prettiest?”

You blushed, apologising to the guy as you pushed your way through.

“Wait, but he said…”

“Charlie, you’re gonna be the death of me!” you opened the door for him, shoving him into the passenger seat before wrangling the other two boys into the back.

You climbed into your own seat, clicking the child lock before setting off.

“Hey, can we put the radio on?” Pierre called from the back, and Charles reached out before you could answer, cheering as the sound of Bob Marley came from your speakers.

You smiled as they all sang along, and before you knew it, you were pulling up outside their hotel.

“Can you guys get in okay?” You asked, ignoring Pierre’s offended scoff at your question as he pulled at the door handle before turning to you with a sad look. “It won’t open, Y/N.”

You smiled as you clicked the button to unlock the door, and they climbed out of the back of your car. You and Charles watched them wobble their way to the door and stumble in, giving big waves as they stepped inside.

“Idiots,” you mumbled.

“I agree,” Charles answered sleepily.

“I was including you in that.”

“Hey! I’m your idiot.” He defended, and you couldn’t help but nod at that. “Can we stop for fries?”

“Are you gonna order four portions and then eat two bites before falling asleep again?”

“No?”

“Charles.”

“Okay, no fries.”

You rolled your eyes, signalling to pull in the nearest drive-thru, ignoring your boyfriend’s elated cheer.

“One portion, Charles, One.”

“Deal. Give 'em.”

He stuffed four into his mouth at once, groaning at the taste.

“God I love you.”

“You talking to me or the fries?”

“Honestly, right now, I’m not even sure.”

You giggled and he turned to look at you, eyes drunk and hazy.

“I do love you. A lot. You’re so pretty. And nice. And smart. And funny. And great in bed.”

“Charlie!”

“It’s true!”

“God Carlos was right, you’re a menace.”

“Yeah but you love me.”

“Yeah. I do.”

…

“Speaking of great in bed?”

“Charles, no!”

[satorusugurugurl]

jjk men taking care of u in ur third trimester of pregnancy when things get too hard for reader???

JJK Men: When You’re Pregnant

Pairing: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Pregnant!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: language, pregnancy themes, hormones, insecurities, fluffy!

A/N: This request was so much fun Nonnie! I love me some fluff! (I haven't had kids yet so I'm going off of movies and stuff I've read! 😅 the craving thought 100% mine from my bean I lost) 💚

Nanami Kento:

“Ugh!”

Kento heard the shout of frustration and looked up from his laptop. That sounded like his lovely wife. But it couldn't be because you were supposed to be in bed. With a soft sigh, Nanami followed the disgruntled groans from the nursery, where he found you pacing the room.

You were stunning, your baby bump straining against the fabric of your maternity shirt. A tiny onesie was resting on your bump, and you used it as a makeshift table to fold clothes. You were a stunning, glowing vision of beauty. But you should be resting in bed.

“Love, just what do you think you’re doing up?”

You jumped, dropping the onesie you held in your hands. “Ken!” you sighed, placing a hand on your lower back as the muscles strained. You scared me!” Your husband's eyes widened as you grabbed the crib, spreading your legs slightly to bend down.

“No! Darling, stop!” Nanami quickly rushed in, dropping down to pick up the onesie. You heard the doctor say you need to be resting. What are you even doing in here?”

“I need to prep the nursery.”

The keyword was needed. Not want or desired; need. And it was a word Nanami had come to know very well over the last eight and a half months. Just like you needed sauerkraut and how you needed tart frozen yogurt at two in the morning. This was your hormones and maternal instincts.

“Ah, you're nesting again.”

The nesting started simple: when you were making the nursery, building the crib, and preparing for your daughter's arrival. Not that you were so close; it seemed you were nursing again, even more now. Glancing around the room, Nanami took in the small load of fresh, dried baby clothes he had planned on folding before finding the diapers and wipes on the changing table.

“She’s going to be here soon. I know it, so I need to hurry up and get ready, " you said, feeling out of breath, which is standard these days.

Nanami could see the exhaustion on your face. He said nothing as he gently took your hand and led you to the rocking chair, helping you sit. You have a breath as you ease into it, watching your husband kneel next to you.

“Love, I understand you have this primal need to nest, but you also need to rest, and that’s the doctor's order.”

“But there’s still so much to do.”

His gentle hand reached out, copying your cheek. “And I’m here to help you. I helped make our darling girl, so I fully intend to help you with everything else.” His tongue gently caresses your cheek, sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach.

“Kento.” You whisper as big tears, dreaming down their cheeks, followed by a hiccup. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now tell me what I can do to help.”

“I want to put all the clothes in the dresser and stock the changing table.”

Nanami wasted no time in precisely what you asked, and once that was done, he looked over his shoulder at you. “What else?”

“I wanted to clean and organize the living room.” Nanami headed to the living room, leaving you with tiny socks. Thirty minutes passed before Nanami came back into the nursery.

“All clean out there; what’s next, Love?”

For the next two hours, your husband helped you with your motherly instinct nest., no matter how minimal or massive the task was, from cleaning the bathrooms to opening all the baby bottles. Nanami never complained or looked like you were asking too much from him. He was so helpful that you felt yourself relax more until you sank back into the bed with a smile, relaxing with the pillows.

Nanami fluffed the pillows for you and covered you with a blanket. His smile was so gentle, and his eyes slowly trailed to your stomach. Seeing him smile so fondly melted your heart.

“Come here.” You tugged on his shirt, padding the spot next to you. Without asking why, your husband kicked off his slippers and hopped in bed beside you. “Thank you for all your hard work today; you put all my nerves at ease.” Gently took his hands and placed them on your baby bump. “The two of us appreciate everything you’ve done.”

There was a furnace in your husband’s eyes as he rubbed your tummy gently before leaning down, pressing a kiss between his hands. “I would do anything and everything for my girls.” Because I love them both very much. Much more than words and actions can describe.” You were about to start crying when you hissed out a wince as your daughter kicked your husband.

“I think that was her telling you she loves you too.” You whispered, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“I love her too.” Honey, brown eyes met yours. “And I love you.”

“I love you too, Kento.” That evening, you lay in bed, the house cleaned to perfection, as you and Kento lovingly waited for your darling little girl to arrive.

Gojo Satoru:

“Damn.” You cursed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the white and blue floral print maternity dress you wore. People talked a lot about the first and the second trimester: the morning sickness, the cravings, the growing baby bump. But the third trimester had you looking at yourself in a different light. Your body had changed so much while you carried your son; sometimes, you barely recognized yourself, and it did not often make you feel like staying in. “Toru— do we have to go out?”

Your husband suddenly stood by your side, hand held in front of him, and eyed you up and down. “Why? Do you feel alright? Dizzy? Contractions?” You couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but he was eyeing you as if you were going to shatter. “Do I need to call the doctor?”

“No, no, no, okay, baby.” Relief tag at his mouth as he pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

“Oh good, but why are you asking if we must go out? Do you not feel like going out on the date?”

Going on a weekly date has been recommended by your OB/GYN. She pretty much told you to have as much fun as you could for the next nine months because when your little boy came around, alone would be a thing that was scarce for the first few months. So, of course, you made it a point to go out and do something every Saturday morning. Your little dates were so much fun; you’d have breakfast, shop, and maybe watch a movie. But those fun little dates were beginning to make you feel more like a hassle, especially now that you were nine months pregnant and felt like the size of the house.

Every time you leave the house, the hospital bag must be loaded with you. It took you forever to put on your shoes, and every time your son decided to play kickball with your bladder, you were waddling off to the nearest restroom. Saturday morning dates were less fun, and you felt like they were more of a chore for your husband.

“I want to go, but—” you said out loud, your hands rubbing your baby bump. “I’m having a hard time putting on my shoes.”

“Oh, well, that’s a simple fix!” Your boyfriend has led you to the kitchen, where he pulled out a chair padding the cushion. “Mi, you love cheesy, my Cinderella.” He lifted your sandals, slowly slipping one on before he turned your other foot and slipped the other shoe on. Now we head to our carriage and find the finest breakfast restaurant in Tokyo.”

And you weren’t sure what it was. It could’ve been him calling you his Cinderella, or the fact your shoes were fitting a little too tight nowadays, or maybe it was the fact he was taking you to breakfast, which was something you had been craving all day yesterday. Or it could just be the damn hormones. Satoru blinked, looking up at you, and you didn’t bother to answer his question, and when he met your eyes, he was a mess with a blubbery, teary face.

“Baby? Oh sweetie, what’s wrong?” His concern only made you cry harder. “Sweetheart!”

You wiped your eyes, but no matter how hard you tried to stop, the tears ran down your flushed cheeks. “I—” hic, “I’m sorry—I just feel bad!” The chair beside you scraped against the floor, and when you could look through blurry eyes, you found Satoru sitting right in front of you, gently holding your hands. “I’m not a burden anymore. Always needing more time, I slow down is just, ugh, I’m sorry!” Satoru sat back, nose wrinkling at your words.

“Baby, what are you talking about? You’re not a burden.”

“I-I take too long to walk. You have to put my shoes on, and I constantly have to pee!”

“Sweetpea! Honey, I don’t care if I have to put your shoes on, and I’ll wait for you as long as you need me to. Plus, I hold your bags when you go to the bathroom. I don’t mind doing all those things and one million more because you’re carrying our child. You’ve been through so much: the cravings, hormones, and changes to your body. You truly are incredible.”

Satoru held his breath, watching as tears streamed down your pretty cheeks. “You don’t mind waiting for me? Even though I look like a walking house?”

“Okay, no.” Your husband’s hands flew up, copying both sides of your face. “You are not the size of the house. You’re beautiful, and I love your body. I’m not sure what kind of guy cares about shit like that. But I would love you no matter what. Whether you gain or lose weight, I love you for you.” His thumbs brushed away your tears. “You might not see it, but you are stunning.”

You sniffed, relaxing, leading into his touch. “Really?” Hesitantly, the tears finally stopped.

“Yes! My goddess, you are a radiant vision, sunshine, and human form. And you are a perfect vision.” Satoru’s continue to caress your flushed cheeks. “If I’m being honest, I love our dates on Saturday mornings because I get to be seen next to a beautiful woman like you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I think you’re confused because I feel like that with you.”

“Is that so?” Smiling as he dropped his hands to your tummy, caressing it lovingly. “Looks like our kid locked out. He’s got two hot parents.” The teasing in his eyes faded. “And he’s going to have the best mommy in the world.”

“And the best, Daddy, " you added, placing your hands on top of his.

“And he’ll be loved immensely.” Satoru pressed against your tummy before kissing your hands. “So what do you want to do, sweetheart? Do you want to go out, or would you prefer to stay in?”

“Well, seeing as you went through the trouble of putting my shoes on for me, let’s go on our date.”

Satoru fist pumps the air before placing his hand on your lower back to help steady you. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll take you to eat wherever you want.” You enter your fingers as you slowly head out of the house towards the car.

“Seeing that it’s your son, he wants French toast.”

“Yep, there’s no denying he’s mine!” Proudly announced as he squeezed your hand tightly.

Geto Suguru:

“Ow, ow, ow!” You paste around the kitchen, hands on your hips, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in your back.

Upon hearing your cries of pain, your boyfriend is around the corner, slipping on the hardwood floor. “What?! Are you okay? Is she okay?” Suguru grabbed your waist, surveying you for any injuries.

“No, we’re both okay.” Suguru visibly relaxed at your words, dropping his head slightly as he tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

“Then why were you saying ow?”

The muscles in your back, your boyfriends, they seized up, screaming in pain. “Nngh!” Your teeth together, grabbing Suguru’s wrist and squeezing as your back twitched and strained. “I-It’s just my back; our little bean isn’t so little anymore.” There was nothing but pure sympathy on your boyfriend’s face as he watched your face contort with pain.

“Oh baby,” he sighed slowly, stepping behind you. “Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if a massage would be the best thing to do right now. Every nerve in your back was burning with red-hot pain. Laying down in bed didn’t help, and sitting on the couch made it even worse; walking around was the only thing that seemed to alleviate some of the pain.

The thoughts of his thumbs rubbing into the muscles driving you mad had you squirming out of his reach. But due to the nine-month pregnant belly, you were sporting, you weren’t able to move as fast as you had been before. Your attempted move away was futile as Suguru grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you back into his chest.

“Suguru, please don’t give me a massage right now. My back is killing me, and I feel like if you touch it, it’s going to make it worse.”

“Shh, I got you.”

You shut your eyes, waiting For the inevitable pain, as he trailed his hands down the side of your arms before sliding down over your tummy. His hands never ventured back up to your shoulders. Instead, they slid further down underneath the baby bump, resting there for a second. Realizing your back wasn’t in danger, you opened your eyes, glancing down at your tummy as dark strands of hair fell over your shoulder, hair that belonged to Suguru.

“What are—” Without giving you a chance to finish your words, Suguru gently lifted your baby bump slightly, allowing him to hold your daughter's weight, giving your back some much-needed rest. “Oooh~” the relief Washed over you like waves at the beach, “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad to hear that.” His thumbs brushed over a little sliver of skin as your shirt scrunched up over your tummy. “I saw this little trick online.”

You could feel the pressure being relieved from your muscles, back, and hips. Ten pounds lighter, you felt like you could finally relax with that weight your boyfriend was holding. With a happy sigh, you leaned further against his back. It felt so good.

“You are so amazing. Carrying our baby, thank you.” Soft lips gently trailed over your cheek, running over your jawline as your boyfriend held your daughter's weight off your body. “I’m so thankful for everything you’re doing for us.”

“You're welcome.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Thank you for being so kind and patient with me.” Your daughter stretched out, leaving you wincing again.

“I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

His words left you feeling baffled. “Suguru, you’ve already done so much. You baby-proofed the house, you put together the crib, which was a nightmare.”

“At least it wasn’t from IKEA.”

“You also go out of your way to get me anything I crave. No matter how gross it is.”

“I don't know. Your last request for hotdogs and cold cream of mushroom soup nearly took me out.”

You moaned in delight at the mention of your late-night snack from a week ago. “It was so tasty! But the point is you do a lot for me, even now,” you whispered, motioning your head towards his hands. “This is everything I had been needing tonight.” Suguru fondly smiled at you, pressing another kiss against your cheek before he began rubbing circles over your stomach.

“This is all you need, Princess?”

“Mhmm~ you, the girls, and our baby.”

“You’re sure? You would let me know if there was anything else I could do for you, right?”

You nodded your head, inhaling the earthy, minty scent that belonged to the father of your child. “I would, but I’m happily content with right here and now.” Suguru felt his smile widen as he gently began easing your bump down so he could properly turn you around to kiss you. But that was his first mistake. A rumbling growl sounded from you, and your eyes shot up toward him in the dark, warning rage.

“Don't you even think about moving your hands.”

“Oh,” He seized up at the apparent anger in your voice. “Right, sorry, baby.” As he continued to hold the baby bump up for you, he could feel the rage leaving your body as he relaxed back against him. Suguru felt like he wasn’t doing enough, but he could tell by the gentle smile that graced your pretty face that he was doing everything he needed for you at that moment. And he didn’t care how he would be standing in the kitchen holding the weight up for you as long as you both were together and happy to do whatever you needed.

Choso Kamo:

Your husband had gone missing, and you weren’t sure where he ran off. One second, he told you that he was heading outside to meet his brother for something, and the next second had turned into two, which turned into an hour, and you were beginning to wonder where exactly he was or what he had gotten himself into. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn’t have bothered you; he was always running off to do stuff with his brothers. But your little one, due any day now, was feeling restless.

They were kicking and punching you in the ribs and bladder, and the typical tricks you use to soothe the little to relax are turning out to be useless. The only thing that seemed to calm them down nowadays was Choso’s voice. He did not even need to do much; as long as he was in the vicinity for your baby to hear, they relaxed almost instantly.

You hated to interrupt his bonding time with his brother, but at the same time, he would like to sit on the couch without feeling the urge to pee, so you just went to the bathroom. The need to sleep and relax somehow fueled you to push yourself out of the recliner and begin waddling around the house in search of Choso or Yuuji.

The last time you saw them, they were heading out to the garage to talk about anything and everything, from Yuuji’s schooling to everything that still needed to be done for the baby's arrival. But all of that can wait for now; right now, you need the comfort of his voice.

Heading out to the garage side, rubbing your tummy as your precious baby shifted again, pulling out a sound of discomfort from you. You couldn’t wait for them to be born so you could hold them, and you were eager for them to stop playing Twister with the inside of your uterus. Just a couple of weeks were left, but Choso was your secret weapon in the meantime.

“Cho?” you asked, looking around the garage. “Babe?”

The car was in the driveway. Both doors to the backseat were left open. For a minute, you felt your heart rate spike because you didn’t find Choso nearby, but before you could panic over what may have happened, a flash of pink hair popped out from the car.

“I don’t think that’s right, Choso.”

“I know, it's just—” Your fiancé got out of the car, scratching the back of his head in apparent annoyance. “How do people do this?”

“I’m as clueless as you are. Maybe I should call Megumi; he’s smart. I bet he could figure it out.”

Choso gently slammed his head repeatedly against the side of the car with a sigh. “This should not be this hard.” You stood off to the side out of sight, and your restless son started to set up the sound of his father’s voice. “We need to figure this out, Yuuji.”

“Why don't we just ask Sis?” Yuuji question referring to you. “She has friends with babies, but doesn’t she have nieces and nephews, too? She would probably know how to put in a car seat.“

Oh, so that’s what they were doing out here. Poor boys had probably been struggling to put it in this whole time. Well, luckily for them, you know how to put in a car seat.

Before you could begin treading down the driveway to help them, Choso shot up, looking at his little brother from across the car. Dark strands of hair bounced as he shook his head. “No, we’re going to figure this out.” you and Yuuji eyed Choso with confused looks.

“Why not Cho?”

“Because she needs all the rest she can get. She hasn’t been sleeping well, but I can do this. I want her to rest. I want to help out with things like this. It’s at least I can do.” the fondest smile plastered his mouth. “Since she’s carrying our baby.”

“Oh, Choso,” you whispered, fighting my tears. He’s been so sweet and attentive during the pregnancy, but he’s been putting in all the effort for the last few weeks. He was cooking, cleaning, taking care of you, packing the hospital bag himself, and, on top of all that, cooking all the meals, making sure he was tending to everything for you. Not a day passed that you didn’t receive a foot or back massage. Was it even possible to fall deeper in love with a man you would spend the rest of your life with?

Yes, it was.

Although the tears were blurring your vision, you could see the understanding on the younger boy's face. “I guess that makes sense.” Yuuji stretched his arms above his head. “But can we please call Megumi?” your fiancé nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's fine.”

Seeing that they both had it under control, you quietly snuck back into the house and relaxed on the couch. Another thirty minutes passed before Choso came back inside. He had a wide smile on his face as he sat down on the couch next to you, pressing a kiss against your lips before kissing your tummy.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” Choso rested his head on your stomach, his eyes shutting as he felt your son move. “We got the car seat set up. So we’ll be all set for when the day comes.”

Your fingers toyed with his hair, brushing his dark strands back. “Yeah? Thanks for doing that; it wasn't too difficult, was it?” He turned his head slightly to look up at your face.

“Nope!”

“Good,” you looked back towards the garage, “did Yuuji leave?”

“He went to pick us dinner with Megumi; they should be back soon.”

A comfortable silence grew between you as you ran your hands further down his back. “Cho, thank you for taking such good care of us. And thanks for all your hard work.” Choso’s arms snaked around you, holding you as he shook his head.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“Me?”

“For making me the happiest man in the world, for making me a father, for being my future wife.” His eyes were so warm and full of adoration, “You complete me. So yes, thank you, I love you.”

You couldn't help but grin as you watched him close his eyes. ”I love you too, Choso; we both do.” His smile was contagious as you found yourself following his lead, drifting off to sleep. It was the kind of sleep that was hard and peaceful because you knew you and your son were safe with Choso.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man

Part 2

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU

“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.

Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.

“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”

Pierce furrowed his brows.

“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.

Bucky nodded.

“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.

“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”

Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.

“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.

It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.

Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.

“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.

“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.

Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.

His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.

“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.

Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.

“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”

Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.

“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”

Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.

“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.

Bucky nodded, taking everything in.

“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”

Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.

“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.

“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.

Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.

But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.

“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.

“Yes sir.”

Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.

He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.

“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”

The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.

“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.

“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.

You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.

“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.

Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.

He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.

“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.

“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.

Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.

Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.

“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.

You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.

Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.

“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.

You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.

He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.

He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.

Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.

Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.

On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.

A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.