#I always loved it as a kid and I might love it even more now

[rafelandia]

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers. 

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

//

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times. 

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife. 

Good. She was sleeping. 

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely. 

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door. 

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so. 

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.” 

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list. 

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister. 

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.” 

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this? 

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands. 

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

//

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his. 

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face. 

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now. 

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did. 

With two babies.

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 2

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel’s shadows liked to spoil his mate rotten.

Not that Azriel could find anything wrong with that.

She deserved more for putting up with him. 

More than new tea from the Dawn Court and her favourite chocolate covered, wafer thin cookies from a small bakery near the Sidra…more than the occasional embroidery thread they snuck her…More than whatever animal he went to go hunt, to cover his bed in even more furs just for her. 

He nearly had enough Sable furs to have a blanket made for her for Winter Solstice…

Azriel also had half a mind to go sneak in her office later that day. 

Just as a treat for not killing either of his brothers. For being civil. 

Rhys had come over for sparring, unnannounced. 

Azriel had hoped to have some peace and quiet today, but it seemed like Rhys had other plans. 

Currently Cassian and Rhys were wrestling with less sense than they had had when they were just kids, and Azriel was cleaning his weapons, watching from the sidelines.

Azriel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of his brothers roughhousing. It was typical of them to turn a simple sparring session into some kind of ridiculous competition. He focused on sharpening his knives, trying to ignore their antics.

"You know, we could also actually train properly," he called out, his tone dry. "Instead of wrestling like a bunch of children."

Cassian looked up from his grappling with Rhys, grinning. "Oh, come on Az. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Loosen up, have a little fun for once."

Azriel's expression remained impassive. "I'm perfectly capable of having fun, Cassian. But I prefer to do so without rolling around in the dirt like a wild animal."

Rhysand chuckled, standing up and clapping Cassian on the back. "It's good to let loose every now and then, Az. You should try it sometime. It might make your brooding sessions a little less depressing."

Azriel just grunted in response, not willing to engage in a verbal sparring match with Rhys. He continued to clean his weapons, hoping that the training session would end soon so he could escape his brothers' teasing.

“When did you even come home yesterday?” Cassian asked him.

Azriel looked up from his work, his expression neutral. "Around 11," he said simply.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Rhys pointed out. “You were missed.”

He highly doubted that.

And maybe he had made that mission in Dawn just a little while longer, so that he knew that dinner would be over and when he came home, he wouldn’t need to be alone.

Azriel just shrugged. "I was busy," he said, offering no further explanation. He knew his brothers were just trying to rile him up, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

*Are you still pissed of at me?* Rhys asked him mentally with a sigh. *I get it. But you don’t need to avoid everybody else, just because…*

*I’m not avoiding anyone,* Azriel replied, his mental voice tight. *I’m simply choosing to spend my time how I see fit.*

“I was busy,” he repeated aloud.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You're always busy, Az. You know, there's such thing as taking a break once in a while. Spending time with your family."

Or he could spent time with his mate. He could spent time with his mate, who let him brush her hair and even braid it …who pressed kisses to his horrible scarred hands and smiled at him. 

If it was a choice between Irena or a family dinner where he didn’t want to stay longer than an hour or two, because he was still too fucking pissed off at Rhys…the choice was easy. 

“Or is there a special somebody?” Cassian teased him.

Azriel glowered at him. "It’s none of your business." He went back to working on his weapons, his expression tense.

*You can’t keep panting after Elain for the rest of your life,* Rhys said mentally. *Look, I know I didn’t…I am sorry. But she’s happy with Lucien and…*

*Don’t worry, I’ll go to a pleasure hall and pay for it if I want to fuck somebody,* Azriel shot back viciously.

Or his own hand would suffice. More than suffice, especially if…especially if Irena had let him kiss her the evening before…sometimes he waited until she disappeared into her room, and he buried his face in the pillows that smelled like her, fisted his cock and rutted like an untried boy for seconds before he came all over himself. 

It was still better than any other sex he ever had had before.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. "It sounds like you need to get laid," he said, chuckling. "Maybe that'll help with your bad mood."

Azriel shot him a glare. "Mind your own business, Cassian. My love life is none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a sympathetic look. *We just want you to be happy, Az. You deserve happiness.*

“Ohhh, touchy,” Cassian said with a snort.

Azriel just gritted his teeth, his temper rising. "Cassian, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I swear to the Mother, I’ll shut it for you."

Cassian just grinned at him. "Come on, Az. I’m just teasing you. Lighten up."

Azriel's grip on his weapons tightened. "I don't like your teasing, Cassian. And I certainly don't appreciate you making assumptions about my personal life.”

Mostly he just wanted his brothers to leave him the hell alone.

And then...then before he could say another thing...he felt the shaking.

And then the sound came. An eardrum shattering explosion, the very foundation of the House of Wind shaking. It was terrifying him.

Irena was down there in her office. Nesta was in there. 

He was moving before he was even thinking. 

*Merrill's office, Master!* the shadows screeched.

Azriel was already running.

Cassian hot on his heels, so was Rhys.

Azriel was faster, heaving shadows around his limbs as he rocketed down the spiral stairs of the House of Wind.

Level Two, Straight to the right. Clearly...Clearly the epicenter of the blast. Of the explosion…of whatever had happened.

He pushed as hard as he could, legs burning as he hurtled down the hallway to Merrill's office.

He wasn't the only one. "Merrill!" He could hear Gwyn's shrill voice screaming, coming to a stop in a hallway of what had once been Merrill's office but now was just...

It was a mass of wood and rubble.

He barely slowed down, scrambling into action. Gwyn was already digging through it, so where Nesta and Emerie. Cassian landed behind him, immediately moving some of the debris.

His shadows swarmed as he and the others quickly dug at the rubble. Looking, desperately looking.

He moved another piece of rubble out of the way...a piece of blue cloths. The same blue cloth that he knew covered Irena's body, the scent of poppies clinging to her...Without a thought, he grasped and then dragged, a hoarse shout that was her, that was her...

He felt as if he were choking, as if he were drowning as he dragged out her body. Bloody, bruised, broken but still...still there was a faint flicker, a faint, thready heartbeat.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he tried to pick up on her heart. There was barely a flicker. Too fast, too faint, she was barely holding on. Barely hanging by a thread.

There was blood pooling on her abdomen, dying the blue dress she wore bright scarlet red, He put pressure on that wound immediately, leaning on her with nearly all his weight, his fingers slick with blood. "Damn it, stay with me, love," he demanded sharply.

Azriel felt like he could barely breath. Like he was falling, tumbling down as he tried to will her to stay with him. Stay. Stay. Stay. Please stay. Stay...

Rhys was there suddenly, checking her pulse. "Breathing is erratic. She's in shock," he told Azriel with a grimace. "Mor is getting Madja..."

"Az..." her voice was so weak, but he turned to see dark brown eyes watching him, brows furrowing.

"Just keep breathing, Love," he told her, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

He could barely hear what was going on around him. It was as if he were in a bubble, a world of just himself and her and the desperate beat of her heart under his fingers.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"There is nothing you need to apologise for her, Irena," he promised her sharply. "Absolutely nothing."

Irena's eyes drifted shut. Azriel felt like something was dying inside him as her heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His world was collapsing, shattering into pieces as her breath stuttered.

"Stay. Just stay..." he was barely aware of what he was saying, his eyes frantically searching hers. She had to stay. He would do anything to keep her here. Anything.

"I am still owing you that flight," he told her. She hadn't let him take her flying yet. They had snuck away in the library...in the rooftop garden...in her office. But he had never gotten to take her flying. He had never gotten to take her out into Velaris. They had never had a date at a fancy restaurant, had never gone to see the symphony. There were thousands of things that he hadn't yet gotten to do with his mate, because they had all the time in the world.

Irena just stared at him, her eyes pleading, as her heartbeat slowed, fluttering weaker and weaker. Azriel felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear clawed at his spine. "Just hold on a little longer, love," he whispered. "Please."

And then there Madja. Thank the cauldron. There she was.

Azriel could barely manage to let go of her, his mind consumed with the singular thought of Irena's laboured, erratic heartbeat as he moved back. Madja immediately set to work.

He lunged for her head, lunged to pull it on his lap, to touch her with blood slick fingertips, her normally rosy red lips pale, her skin even whiter than usual.

"Hurts," she whispered, as Madja set to work, barking orders.

"I know, I know, love," he whispered, touching her cheek with his fingertips as Madja got to work.

His eyes searched hers as he murmured those words over and over, as if he could somehow hold her in this world through sheer force of will alone.

"We haven't had enough time," he whispered desperately, leaning his forehead against hers.

She was slipping away. He could feel it. Feel her slipping, feel her heartbeat slow. Feel the thread that tethered her to this world fray, fray, fray...

No. He couldn't lose her. Would not let her leave him. He had waited far too long for her. Far, far too long to let her slip through his fingers.

"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay with me."

But her eyes were slipping shut, her head lolling to the side. He gently patted her cheek, trying to urge her back to consciousness, but he didn't think he was even really aware of what he was doing, where he was. The world had boiled down to a desperate litany, in his head. Stay...stay...please...don't you dare...

“I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight,” he told her fiercely.

He needed her to know that he would be there to be furious with her if she dared to die, that she couldn't die. Couldn't. That she had to stay. Had to keep fighting. There were too many things ahead of them...a wedding to plan, children to have, years and years of life to live.

“Az,” she breathed his name, her eyes not even open anymore.

“Open your eyes, Irena,” he demanded. “Look at me, love,”

Her eyes finally fluttered open at his command. It was barely more than a slither of brown, but he latched onto it, taking it for what it was. A chance. A moment to get through to her.

He wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words spilled forth from him, a litany, a desperate prayer. "Please," he breathed, "don't go...don't you dare..."

He was dimly aware that the others had gathered, but he didn't dare look away. Didn't dare look away from her as he cradled her head, trying to pour all of his prayers into those words. All of his hope and desperation.

"You can't go." A statement. An order. An absolute certainty in his voice. "I will not let you go."

He wouldn't. Would never, ever let her go. Would drag her back from the Cauldron's grasp with bloodied and broken hands if thats what had to be.

She didn't speak. Didn't need to. He could read her answer in her eyes, the determination in those brown eyes as she tried so, so hard to stay.

It was as if she were holding on for him, because he had asked her to. Because it was him there with her. Like she would fight until her last breath because he told her too. He didn't deserve this beautiful creature, who was willing to fight for him, willing to live for him.

It was something primal, something desperate, something fierce as he whispered those words over and over, like a prayer. "Fight. Fight. Fight."

And she listened. She did. He could feel her hold on, just barely grasp hold of that tether that kept her in this world. Just barely keep her eyes open.

Just look at him.

And she did, those dark eyes unfocused but open, staring up at him, watching him. Trying so, so hard. It nearly made his heart stop in the most terrible way that she was struggling for him.

And he was so proud of her. Of the way she was fighting like she was. Of the way she was grasping, hanging on to life like she was.

The seconds stretched too thin, feeling like eternities and only the slightest of moments. But her eyes were open, if only barely. She hadn't given up. Hadn't let go.

He was dimly aware of the others, Gwyn hovering with a worried expression, Madja murmuring quiet instructions to the others, Rhys kneeling not far away. But he barely glanced at them, barely dared to take his eyes off Irena.

He was certain that if he looked away, if he let this tenuous thread sever, that she would die. That as long as he kept her here, she wouldn't slip, wouldn't let go.

He had one hand on her cheek, her skin still clammy and pale, as her eyes slipped open and shut. But everytime, they would find his face. His eyes, like he was the only thing tethering her to the world. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her barely holding on, only that last sliver of determination keeping her here.

"Please," he pleaded, whispering those words like a prayer, like he would be praying to a vengeful god. Those moments felt like eternities, stretching on and on with only his desperate whispers. "Please..."

The world felt so still, so silent as if the world was holding its breath. Azriel's eyes locked on Irena, silently begging her, asking her to please, please...

Live, live live... he whispered those words over and over, a desperate plea to the Mother, the Cauldron, to anyone who would listen. To Irena, the only person in the entire world who truly mattered in that moment.

Her eyes were growing glassy, slipping closed only to jerk open again. Stay��he demanded. Keep looking at me. Please.

She tried. Mother, she tried. Her eyes drifted to him, the smallest hint of life, of a spark there in those dark brown eyes.

He hardly dared to breathe, hardly dared to move. Afraid that any wrong move could tip her over the edge, could pull her into that chasm of non-existence that she was desperately clinging too.

He felt something pricking at his eyes, felt something in his chest cracking, breaking at the sheer intensity of emotions thrumming through him. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her like this, so pale, barely holding on, barely conscious...

“Alright,” Madja said quietly. “Good girl. You were so very brave.”

"Will...will she be alright?" He asked, voice hoarse.

He didn't let his eyes drift from Irena's face, her half lidded eyes staring at him. It filled him with such an intense pang of relief and fear at the same time. Relief, because she was alive...and fear, because they had been so close to losing her.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Madja warned. "But she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. It will take some time to get her vitals stable again."

He felt like he could breathe for the first time. It was almost dizzying, the sheer, intense relief that flooded through him. Irena was here. Irena would live. It filled his veins with an almost drug like euphoria, that made him light headed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

He barely managed to keep that feeling in, the pure euphoria from showing as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes finally dragging away from Irena's face to look at Madja. "Just...thank you."

He looked back at Irena, taking in her face. Alive. Still alive. Still here with him, not gone. The tension seeped from his shoulders, a strange sort of exhaustion taking over. As if all the adrenaline that had fueled him, the fear, was slowly draining out of him like water.

“Merrill,” Irena whispered, her voice near silent.

Azriel felt his fingers brush her cheek, just the gentlest touch as he tried to keep it together. It had been too close. Too, too close. He couldn't stop the overwhelming feelings flowing through him of elation and fear as he looked down at her as he looked down at her, alive. Alive and breathing and whispering soft words. "Shhh," he whispered softly. "Save your strength. Don't strain yourself."

He looked up finding Cassians gaze who just shook his head. Merrill was dead.

Azriel couldn't quite process that information, not in that moment. His eyes were still drawn to Irena, still unable to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek again, just the faintest touch as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "Rest," he instructed softly. "I'll be right there.” He promised.

“Being here to her room,” Madja said quietly.

“My room,” he corrected.

The priestesses dormitory was locked from males. If he even tried to get in there it would’ve end well for him. And he wouldn’t leave her side.

“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply.

“Gwyn,” Rhys said quietly.Azriel didn't even acknowledge Gwyn's words, didn't have the energy. All he could focus on was the way Irena's eyes had drifted shut, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She would be alright. She was going to be alright. She was alive. Right now, in that moment, thats all that mattered.

“Az, how long have the two of you…��� Cassian asked hesitantly.

Azriel just shrugged, his hand resting on Irena's hair, smoothing back from her face. “Two years. She’s my mate,” he said flatly as he gathered her up. 

“Mate,” she rasped. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed softly.

[brainrot-yumm]

Might be a bit silly to study but I also love how deeply respectful it is even with the main antagonist being explicitly transphobic. The other team's coach doesn't misgender Brooklyn, doesn't taunt her by saying she's masculine, doesn't talk about biology or testosterone or religion or anything. She doesn't imply that Brooklyn could be faking her transness or otherwise invalidating her. The statement being argued over isn't even "someone who used to be a boy/is pretending to be a girl is on the girl's team and I don't like it" or something like that, it is "someone who previously was on the boy's volleyball team is now on the girl's team and I don't like it." At most the mother says it wouldn't be fair.

The episode isn't crass or triggering in it's antagonism to tell it's story, it doesn't feel the need. The fact that the mother keeps telling Brooklyn to step down, threatens her, then tries to sabotage the game for everyone and puts her life & other lives in danger (the escape rooms) in the process is more than enough. While she is a simplified caricature of a person as every children's show character is (not an insult), the show doesn't fall for a lot of strawmanning tactics that can far too easily worm their way in, the kind that inadvertently dehumanizes the victim in a way that goes against the theme.

Brooklyn is never made to be seen as less than a person at any point, not even by the main antagonist. Sure, she's made to feel guilty, ashamed and tired over the whole situation, but she's always treated as a human, as a girl, as a trans person. Her plight mainly comes from knowing that her being trans is something that cannot be changed about her and the frustration of being endlessly harassed by it. But her being trans is never called into question. The theme that's taught isn't even just "LGBTQIA+ people should be accepted," that's honestly almost a B point. The main theme is "community changes the world, and support saves lives. Break free from old tradition and find your place in the world where it matters." and that's really important to tell kids when it can sometimes feel so devastating and agonizing to live in the modern day.

It's honestly quite elegant the way it toes the line, you know? It really is something special.

Just watched the banned Moon Girl episode.

>the episode addresses the topic of trans kids in sports >the entire episode is about how bigots will always move the goalpost, and playing by their rules is pointless >the solution is not to play their game and break the rules >it also states that trans people should never feel like a burden >the character Brooklyn is explicitly stated to be trans >there is also an explicitly nonbinary character >multiple mentions of pride and depictions of pride flags, trans flags and progress flags

I'm not at all surprised this didn't get past the censors but I'm so mad that it didn't, because this could've been something really special, and the fact it was canned after being fully finished is downright painful. This episode was wonderful and I'm grateful to all the people who worked on it, and angry that their hard work was wasted. Disney did not deserve you.

Here's a link, as long as Disney doesn't take it down

[caitlinsnicket]

viktor relationship headcanons

warnings: if you squint, you might see something a little intimate, but other than suggestions, there's nothing.

a/n: surprised myself by not only writing this so quickly but also by not including any filth. wow.

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

He lives for shoulder kisses, treating them as a sort of stress reliever.

You visit his lab, bringing him a cup of tea (to make him sleepier and get him to bed quicker), and as you pass by, you lean down to kiss his shoulder.

Even through his shirt, he can feel your warmth, and as you leave, he manages to relax a little more.

Sometimes, before you go, he'll hold your hand and kiss your knuckles, his lips wandering down your wrist and arm until you start pulling him away from the workbench.

On good days—the days when he doesn’t feel as much pain or discomfort just from breathing—he asks for your help removing the harness he wears around his middle section.

He doesn’t actually need the help, but he loves the way your skin feels against his, especially during such an intimate moment, and he savors every second with you.

Putting the harness back on is a hassle, but it’s easier now because you understand.

It’s one thing to force your help on him, and another to ask if he needs it. He appreciates that you ask—and that you back off when he tells you to.

Another bittersweet aspect of your relationship is that he’s always cold. While it’s uncomfortable for him when he’s alone, it’s the best thing in the world when you’re around.

He’ll shiver slightly, and you’ll appear out of nowhere, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and pulling him close, tucking his hands under your thighs and kissing his nose until he’s boiling hot.

You also insist that he drink more warm beverages (except coffee—you banned that from your apartment ages ago), wear thicker clothes, and even use masks in the lab because his colds are always worse than expected.

Viktor insists he’s a grown man perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but when you hold his hands in yours and blow on them, he swallows his pride and lets you. Your love comes in waves like these, and he’s learned to catch as much of it as he can.

He doesn’t pay much attention to his appearance. While that unintentionally makes him a hundred times more attractive, it becomes a problem as he grows more important. It’s hard to explain that he can’t show up to an important meeting looking disheveled and that he needs to fix his hair before leaving the house.

So, you sit him down on the little bench you use to get ready yourself, using some of your products to tame his hair, smoothing down stray locks and ensuring he looks polished. The entire time, he fights to stay awake because of your gentle touch, eventually resting his face against your belly and breathing you in.

When you’re done, it’s a bit hard to get him up and out the door, but you manage by peppering kisses on his cheeks and nose. His heart races at your affection, and he promises to return as soon as possible so the two of you can be together again.

At some point, while redecorating the apartment for the millionth time, a picture falls out of one of his books: it’s him as a child, holding up a toy boat with a huge smile on his face. The sight makes you momentarily consider starting a family right then and there, so you call him over to show him.

He stutters, trying to snatch the photo from your hands, but you stop him, giggling at his embarrassed expression.

"You were so cute as a kid! I mean, you still are, but you looked so small! Baby Vik!" you tease, and he buries his face in his hands.

You end up framing the photo and hanging it on the living room wall, right beside one of your own.

But his absolute favorite thing the two of you do together is bathing. He never saw the point of it before—showering was easier and more practical—but now, he needs at least one bath a week just to keep going.

You fill the bathroom with bubbles, scents, and soaps, and he gets to sit back and relax with you in the warm water (which soothes his pain) in a dimly lit room. He loves it: your hands gently touching him, the care you take to ensure he’s comfortable and content in the tub, and even washing his hair for him.

He finds it almost pathetic how completely in love he is with you.

[lovscb97]

— skz links [hyung line]

tags: hyung line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, rough sex, unprotected sex (plz wrap it before u tap it), creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, mild dacryphilia, begging, use of collars/leashes, spanking, strength kink, oral sex (f. receiving), squirting, car sex, slight exhibitionism, slight choking, use of nicknames (baby, princess, angel, kitten, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, etc

wc: 2.73k

add. notes: hai …. sorry i made this post instead of giving u guys nerd!chan pt. 2 I FUCKIN SWEAR IT’S COMING but it’s just taking the piss out of me n i needed this out for a new post. anyways plz dni if u r a minor like i mean that w my whole chest n also lmk if some of the links stop working or if u can’t see them idk what i can do abt that . but at least i will be aware LMFAOOOOO yea anyways enjoy :3

. . .

⥽ … BANG CHAN: 

link one.

chan is packing. he is absolutely packing to the point you felt like he was going to tear your womb apart when you first got intimate with him, his thick cock stretching you out past your limits as fresh sobs fell from your mouth. since then, he's trained you to take him with enough prep, always making sure to milk at least two orgasms from you before he even thinks about letting his dick near your pussy regardless of how hard it might be throbbing. that wait becomes worthwhile though when he finally sinks inside of you, dirty words and throaty groans rambled in your ear as he releases himself deep inside once he's reached his peak. he loves the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in, never leaving you alone until he's dumped his load empty.

"fuck, baby. how are you so tight?" chan hisses incredulously, wet thumb still circling your clit as you shake in his hold. you're extremely sensitive at this point, twitching from the slightest touch after having cum for the third time, but the only thing in your mind right now is your boyfriend breeding you, the request made obvious with how you tighten your legs around his waist to pull him in. "cum in me, daddy. please!" you plead, teary eyes blinking up at chan whose orbs roll to the back of his head at your keen expression. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's shooting ropes of hot cum inside you, gripping himself to ensure he stays in place. you sigh in content at the warm liquid flooding you, and chan just smiles tiredly, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. "i love you, precious girl." he whispers, resting his body on top of you to keep you plugged up for the rest of the night.

link two.

you're chan's favourite destress toy, that much is obvious. every time he comes home from a long day at work, he knows it'll be worthwhile because you'll be there waiting with open arms and your wet hole longing to be filled up. he'll even take you right then and there in the living room sometimes, making sure everyone around you two knows exactly whose name you're screaming. certain days when he's had it particularly bad though, he'll collar you up and attach a leash to it that he can pull back on, bending you over with your ass up in the air as he slams himself into you repeatedly. it gives him immense pride to have that sense of control over you, to be able to manoeuvre you into whatever position he desires. if he's feeling especially mean, he'll edge you until you're crying into the sheets, cooing at how fucked out you look, knowing he's the only one who can make you feel that way.

"please.. i wan' cum, please." you slur out mindlessly, drool dripping down your mouth as chan slowly drags his cock in and out of you, its mushroom tip pressing deliciously against that spot inside. your boyfriend just chuckles from behind you, his hand yanking on the leash that's tied to your collar which makes you lean back in an instant. his hand sneaks down to grip himself as he pulls out for the nth time, and you whine at the loss of fullness in you, bottom lip jutting out as he slaps the head of his cock against your clit. "yeah, princess? you wanna cum? wanna cum all over daddy's dick?" he mocks you, laughing sadistically when you desperately nod your head. he continues to rub up your little nub, and you're soon about to fall over the edge, gratitude on your lips when he suddenly stops. "oh, baby, you're not cumming that easily tonight." chan growls, causing you to shiver under his hold as he pushes you back onto the bed. it looks like you're in for a long night.

⥽ … LEE MINHO: 

link one.

you love pissing minho off. it's one of the little things in life that gives you so much pleasure, aside from when your boyfriend fucks you, of course. minho, on the other hand, doesn't take lightly to your teasing at all. on days where you're acting out by wearing revealing clothes in front of his friends or sitting too close to one of them for his liking, he'll drag you out with some lame excuse and a clenched jaw, mumbling something about how you're both going home now. he doesn't even care that you're probably smug by the end of it, because that feeling of triumph soon dissipates when he has you bent over his lap, veiny hands kneading the plush of your ass before he's landing a harsh smack on it. he'll spank you and make you count your punishment, and if you lose track, he'll just have to start all over again.

"fucking slut." minho tsk's, cold fingers running themselves against the bruised skin of your butt. he takes a moment to admire his work, tracing the red imprints of his hand on your ass and even the outline of your white panties, which are absolutely soaked by now. "min, please! 'm sorry, it won't happen again." you cry out, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes although you can't see it. another series of repeated spanks land on you, and you yelp in response, legs kicking up from the stinging impact. your body burns by now, every touch minho provides it leaving behind a searing sensation, but you know your boyfriend is far from done with you. "we both know that's a damn lie." he clicks his tongue. "you're always acting out, so it seems like i gotta really start putting you in your place, hm?" you're about to protest when he smacks again, drawing a sob from you; the sound goes straight to his core. he licks his lips, a smirk stretched across them as he readies his palm once more. "now, stop crying and start counting, whore."

link two.

it's no secret that minho is a certified ass man. he loves you, but god does he love your ass just as much. everything about it sends him reeling, from the way it's accentuated in the clothes you wear, to the plump flesh of it that jiggles every time he's got you on your hands and knees. you'd argue he puts you in this position at least once every time you two fuck because knowing your boyfriend, he just wants to watch the way you push back on him when he's bottomed out inside you. he'll give you a few smacks here and there on it too, kneading the skin in his palms before he's snapping his hips into yours. most of the time, he'll refuse to cum inside of you, instead pulling out just before he tips over the edge to release all over your behind and back. you're not complaining though, you love the feeling of his seed dripping over it just as much as he does.

"mm, shit, you look so good right now, kitten." minho groans from behind you, cockhead practically battering your cervix with the way he's shoving himself in and out of you. your whines are high in pitch with how he's fucking you, and you stutter to speak when you try and respond. "y-you say that every time." you eventually manage to heave out, and minho chuckles breathlessly, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass in them as he bites his lip, moaning lowly at the way it bounces back against his dick. "can't help it. you're too hot." he grunts, pistoning his hips at a frenzied pace that knocks the breath out of your lungs. it only takes a matter of minutes before you're both cumming, loud noises filling the room as minho pulls out just in time so he can splatter his release all over your backside. his thumb dips into the seed that now decorates your ass, and he swipes to collect it, pushing it into your mouth. a grin decorates his face as you suck on it. "atta girl."

⥽ … SEO CHANGBIN: 

link one.

changbin is a gym fanatic through and through, and with his rigorous work out routine eventually came his well-built physique, chiselled and bulked up to the point you think you would barely recognise his past self. it refects in the way he walks, talks and holds himself; he loves his strength and he loves showing it off, especially to you. that's why every time you're both entangled in his sheets, it results in him urging you to stand up before hoisting you in his arms. some days he'll hold you in them and bounce you up and down his cock, relishing in the way your cries echo through the room alongside the slapping of skin. other days, he'll toss you around and headlock you as he pounds you from behind, groaning filth in your ear as he pushes you to the edge of tipping. either way, you love what he does, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"hng, so strong, binnie!" you wail, hands clutching your boyfriend's broad back and shoulders as your nails dig into his soft skin, sure to leave marks the next day. changbin just grunts at your sounds of pleasure, too immersed in fucking you onto his cock in your current position. he's got you clinging onto him for dear life as he enters you repeatedly, pride blooming in his chest when you acknowledge how hot it is that he can pick you up so effortlessly. "y-yeah, pretty? like when binnie fucks you like this?" he stutters slightly, too wrapped up in how your pussy clings to his girth. you nod your head rapidly, babbling about how close you are and how hard you're going to cum, spraying all over your boyfriend in due time when he slams into that spot hidden inside you. you're not even given a chance to recover afterwards, changbin manhandling you onto the bed on your stomach before he's sinking back inside. "just a little more, baby. binnie's gotta cum too, okay?" he's whining, and you keen despite the sting of overstimulation rushing through, not knowing you're going to end up letting him use you for another hour.

link two.

you've always known changbin is a romantic at heart, his soft-spoken nature despite the daunting aura he gives off due to his frame often sending your brain spiralling. it gives you whiplash, the way he treats you. some days he'll fuck you like he hates you, growling dirty comments to your face and spitting in your mouth as you shake through an orgasm. other days, however, he'll craddle you in his arms, caging your body underneath him as he rocks his hips against yours in deep, fluid motions. one of his favourite things to do during these instances is hold your hand. he loves the feeling of your fingers lacing through his, holding onto him as he delivers sharp strokes inside of you. something about it feels so raw, like both your souls are intertwined in one big hug. he'll kiss you dizzy, burying his face into your neck as you both whimper 'i love you's' to each other.

"baby.. fuck, baby." changbin moans, his breath fanning hot against the sticky skin of your shoulder from where he's nosed himself in. his hand clings to yours amidst his movements, and you mewl loudly when he thrusts particularly deep inside of you. "i love you. love you so much, my baby. my pretty, perfect angel." your boyfriend pants, head moving to bring his lips to yours in a messy meeting. it's filled with so much love and care, your mouths moulding perfectly against one another's as you exchange kisses. your stomach feels like it's filled with butterflies, but you're not sure if that's because of how fucking in love you are with him or because of changbin rocking his hips into you. either way, you pull apart from him, trying to say it back in the middle of your noises of pleasure. "l-love you so much, binnie. fuck, you always give it to me so good." you praise, and changbin visibly shivers, burying his face back where it was between your neck to continue making love to you until at last, you're both coming undone together.

⥽ … HWANG HYUNJIN: 

link one.

one thing you adore about your precious lover boy is his mouth. his pretty, plump lips that kiss your tears away, or his dangerously addictive tongue that's always finding it's way between your thighs when he feels like it, which is basically all the time. hyunjin can't help that you taste so sweet, or how you're always so perfectly wet for him by the time he's journeyed down to your legs where you truly need him. he'll spend hours buried between them, parting you with his slender fingers and holding you open for him to lick into. he finds extreme satisfaction in the way you push back against his body when he's having a go at you, too weak to move him in your futile efforts of running away from his mouth once he's had you cum twice without stopping. he'll continue anyways though, because to him, there's no better treat after a long day.

"hyunie, s-slow down." you whimper, the lewd suckling sounds of your clit being wrapped in your boyfriend's mouth resonating through the room as he messily eats you out. his movements are filled with fervour and desperation, something you'll never get used to experiencing despite how long you've been together. each time almost always feels like you're starring in some obscene porno with the way hyunjin always drawls out the most nasty sounds from you. this instance is no different either, because before you can even react, you're spraying droplets of clear liquid on his face, your boyfriend groaning into you at the feeling of you squirting on him. he cleans it all up with great pleasure, breathing heavily as he finally rises from his position to slot himself between your legs. his lips find yours in a dirty kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. "you're insatiable." you murmur when he pulls away, and hyunjin chuckles, mouth hovering over your jaw as you tremble at his next words. "not my fault my baby's got the tastiest cunt in the world."

link two.

hyunjin is a freak through and through. you've known for a while that he gets off on all sorts of things, and one of them is primarily the risk of being sneaky in public, regardless if it's planned or not. there have been one too many occasions of the latter where you've both been out on a date together with you looking a little too good, too good to the point that the waiter starts flirting with you and leaving hyunjin seething. it's only high time after that until he's dragging you out of the restaurant and into his backseat, too lazy to even undress properly before he's sinking inside of you to fuck you as he sees red. he'll get so possessive too, groaning how you're his and his only whilst pulling you back by your hair. it's true that your boyfriend is a big lover, but when times come down to this, he'll drill into you like he absolutely loathes you.

"dirty slut, letting me fuck you where anyone can see. you'd even let that server find you like this, wouldn't you?" hyunjin grits out, his sweat dripping onto your back as he shoves his long length in you. you're sure the windows are fogged up by now, his car rocking with his movements, but neither of you care about that. "n-no, only want you to see. just you, hyune." you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his cock slams in you with each thrust. your boyfriend lets out a low moan at your words, yanking you back by your hair to lick at your neck. "that's right, princess. only i get to look at this pussy, hm? only i can f-fuck it right, yeah?" he grunts, slender fingers coming up to wrap around your throat as you nod shakily, taking a deep breath as hyunjin squeezes slightly. "gonna cum in this cunt and fill you up with my babies so everyone knows who you belong to. then, i'm taking you straight home to fuck you full again. got that?"

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[animeyanderetalker]

I think this will be a Gojo/Geto/Sukuna thing. If the Darling is insecure about her looks, they will fuck her infront of the mirror/s and forcing her look at herself. Maybe even fuck her, when she is leaning on the window or even Infront of their followers/minions.

Tw: Nsfw, non-con, dub-con, mirror sex, humiliation kink, power display

I 100% agree with Sukuna for the point of fucking his darling in front of his minions. It's just such a power display for him, knowing that he can bully his cock inside of you and have others watch as he rails you into the ground all whilst knowing that no one dares to speak up or voice their uncomfortable feelings with the situation.

I take it one step further and say he'd even fuck his darling in a bloody battlefield of his enemies or even other women who threw themselves at him, offering themselves in hopes of mercy, protection or simply to seduce and use him. If he were to consider you ugly and worthless you would have ended up like the dead bodies around you, dismembered and severed with limbs scattered in all directions.

By all means, sweet-talking and Sukuna are two words that do not belong together and he would certainly degrade you verbally just as much. However, if he tells you that your looks are alright you will stop moping around like a bratty kid and if he has to fuck you to hammer that into your brain he will gladly do it.

Mirror sex I can see most realistically see with Gojo. He would never expose his darling to the eyes of others, especially when she's naked and vulnerable beneath him. Now, considering that Gojo attracts people left and right it is not unsurprising that you might start to get insecure about your appearance because you realise that theoretically Satoru has a lot of choices besides you.

Gojo, as a response when noticing your insecurities, would amplify his affection tenfold. That's when mirror sex probably comes in and with the shit ton of money that he has I wouldn't even be surprised if he designs an entire room filled with mirrors and then makes love for you for hours in that room and no matter where you look, your reflection will always look back at you.

Whilst he wouldn't ever let anyone see you naked I can imagine that in case someone attempts to seduce him and convince him that they're better he makes an audio the next time he makes love to you and then plays it to the other person, clarifying that they could never elicit such sounds from him like his darling.

Geto is kind of tricky because he really struggles to accept the fact that he is in love with his non-sorcerer darling. Similar to Sukuna he isn't the kindest with his words either as he actively tries to put you down so that you feel like the worthless monkey that you are. As his followers share his beliefs I do not believe that he would fuck you in front of them.

There could be a point made for him doing the dirty deed with you in front of other non-sorcerers because to him they are disposable and even more worthless than you are. However, even that is rare and would most likely be used when he really wants to humiliate you or punish you in which case the non-sorcerer being forced to watch might be someone far too close to you for his liking.

At one point he would switch his feelings as he is forced to embrace his feelings more and more. He still is far away from a Prince Charming for obvious reasons as he will never view you as an equal to sorcerers but you are no longer in the same category as the humans he views as monkeys. Then he would be more confrontal if you were to harbor insecurities because he still chose you, meaning that you should at the very least realise that you are more special than other non-sorcerers.

[dreams-hopes-lies14]

some thoughts about the Doctor Odyssey mid-season finale:

I’m SO shocked that the writers had the balls to do this but I’m genuinely so glad because (although I think I’m in the minority) I always find a pregnancy storyline to be so interesting especially with how it can change up character dynamics

I’m not mad at Tristan x Vivian👀 HOWEVER, I think that Tristan is still in love with Avery (and also Max but doesn’t know it) AND VIVIAN DESERVES BETTER

Genuinely, I want to see more Vivian

We are in dire need of a Broadway episode!!!

okay so Tristan may also have some daddy issues that may have helped form his intense fear of abandonment (so now he has daddy issues with our resident daddy, Dr. Max Bankman🤭)

I hate how this “female dilemma” is currently being framed BUT I think (or hope) that the writers are doing this to set up the potential of both Max and Tristan being involved in helping out so Avery can also achieve all of her dreams because WITH THE RIGHT SUPPORT IT IS DOABLE

Avery is such a cynic who believes that joy is excruciating and I NEED her to talk about why that is (perhaps divorce trauma? childhood trauma?)

Avery definitely had ideas of a life with a white picket fence, but I think she’s more accepting that that might not be her fate compared to the boys but I don’t think she ever figured that having a kid doesn’t have to be in the context of a white picket fence

either way I support Avery’s right to choose! and I’m so glad that Tristan told her what she needed when Max was clearly freaking out

Max’s automatic reaction was to somehow make the pregnancy work while also helping Avery with her dreams and I can’t help but wonder why exactly he locked in on that assumption because I think it goes beyond the “I haven’t had this happen before”

So many themes of life coming to catchup with you even in so-called heaven and idk if I should buy into the heaven/afterlife/coma theories or if this is the writers saying “BUCKLE UP — REAL LIFE SHIT IS COMING AT YA SOON”

Reality always has a way of catching up to them so is it potentially Max’s reality of potentially still dealing with COVID (the theory) or is it that the throuple isn’t some sort of fantasy just as ALL three of them (yes, including Avery —especially Avery) has been treating it

The throuple can (and should imo) be rooted in reality, but right now, it’s being treated as a dream, an overindulgence, and a form of escape rather than as a real relationship where they have to constantly work on the interpersonal bonds amongst themselves AND their intrapersonal traumas

I’ll definitely have to rewatch the episode and I’ll watch it within the context of the previous episodes because I wanna look into more of the song motifs and themes throughout the show because I do think that this is a Ryan Murphy specialty

I also think the music could give us an indication of where they might go with the throuple, Tristan x Vivian, etc.

Overall, I know that some people may not like the trope, but I’m really really glad that they decided to go all in with this! I loved this episode and the fact that we’re seeing Avery being forced to confront something very very real that could potentially connect with her previous traumas

im also SO glad that the fanfic I have cooking that has some people from Max’s past fits in with the storyline (dare I say, even more so because it deals wit a childhood friend, and a previous teen pregnancy and how it affected Max’s life🤭)

[crowliphale]

OH OH OH IM GONNA MAKE THE VHS TAPES HAVE MULTIPLE FUNCTIONS!! YES!! my brain is expanding

So firstly, tweaking the arm puzzle a little more, now it's 2 things: baby max is PURPOSEFULLY saying the wrong colors, but future max can't hear him regardless

I always kinda disliked that the record player only really had one purpose, cuz it discourages the player from messing with it more or actually listening to the other records (says the guy who's guilty of speedrunning 305 every time he replays it)

so I'm thinking you gotta get baby max in front of the TV to make him realize how important it is to save Sam! Cuz ofc the little guy loves his best friend, but he's also a dopey kid, he's not gonna fully grasp how dire their situation is (and older Max is obviously NOT the best person to teach ANYONE about mortality, even himself)

So he'll start saying the correct colors. It's solved! But then future max still can't hear, so now the heart ALSO serves more functions: it has grandpa Leo's hearing aid in it. (Can you tell I love the cartoon as much as the telltale games)

Ack sorry for the yapfest I think I might just enjoy designing things sndjfbg

305 flipside content?? In 2024???

[dissapointu]

babes, hi I just discovered your blog! I have this idea- what if you know when they kidnap Isha- they also kidnap reader- Isha is waiting for her other mama to save her while the reader is waiting for her mommy lol

(I would prefer female reader but gender neutral is good if needed)

Hey Mamas, Here’s my take on your request, I'm hope this is what you were looking for!

_________________________________________

The dank, cold air of the warehouse scraped against your skin like sandpaper, the rough burlap sack they’d used to blindfold you discarded in a corner. Your wrists throbbed from the tight bindings. Across from you, Isha sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, her wide eyes scanning the room.

She’d been brave—braver than you, honestly. The way she’d squared her shoulders and looked her captors in the eye before they shoved the both of you into the dark room was nothing short of impressive. But now, in the silence, her small hands were trembling.

“They’ll come,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

You nodded, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or you. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “They’ll come.”

Whoever “they” were for her. You hadn’t even known the kid until today. You’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A trip to the market turned into a nightmare the second Silco’s thugs stormed through, grabbing Isha first and you only because you’d tried to intervene. Now you were here, bound and helpless, waiting for… for who?

Your chest tightened. Caitlyn had always said she’d protect you, but this wasn’t her usual league of criminals. This was Silco. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and—

“Mama’s strong,” Isha said, cutting through your spiral of panic. She looked up at you, her eyes bright with determination. “She’s gonna come get us.”

You stared at her for a moment. “Yeah?” you asked, trying to latch onto her confidence.

She nodded firmly. “Other Mama’s strong too. No one messes with them. You’ll see.”

Her faith was so absolute, so steady, that you almost believed her. But all you could think about was Caitlyn’s face, the fear and fury that must be running through her when she realized you were gone.

Footsteps echoed outside the door. Isha’s head snapped up, her body rigid. “See? That’s them!”

Your breath hitched. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it could just as easily be more of Silco’s men.

The door slammed open, and chaos erupted.

A flash of pink hair. A fist colliding with a thug’s face. Vi.

“Hold on, Peanut!” Vi called, her voice rough and loud over the sound of punches landing and bones cracking.

Your heart raced. Isha was on her feet, calling out for her mama, her confidence paying off in full. Then another figure appeared, rifle in hand, precision in every step.

“Caitlyn!” you cried, relief flooding you so hard you thought your knees might give out if you weren’t already on the floor.

Caitlyn’s sharp gaze landed on you, her expression melting from steel into something softer, something fierce in a different way. She crossed the room in a heartbeat, cutting your bindings with a small knife.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, cupping your face and scanning you for injuries.

“I’m okay,” you said, even though your voice cracked.

“Good,” she said, her shoulders sagging slightly in relief. Then she pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as if to make sure you were really there.

Isha was in Vi’s arms now, the woman lifting her up effortlessly. “Told you I’d come, didn’t I?” Vi said, a wide grin on her face despite the fresh bruise blooming on her cheek.

Isha giggled, her earlier fear melting away. “Told her you’d come too,” she said, pointing at you.

Vi glanced over, her grin softening into something warmer. “Of course we came. That’s what family does.”

Caitlyn’s arms tightened around you, and you felt the same unshakable love and protection in her embrace.

In that moment, with Isha laughing and Caitlyn’s steady heartbeat in your ear, the cold warehouse didn’t seem so dark anymore.

[jessicaseroticramblings]

The Babysitter

I sat next to Mr Evans as he drove me home in his car. Well it wasn’t exactly straight home as we had agreed upon a slight detour along a quiet country road. Mr Evans pulled over in a lay by and turned off the engine. We sat there for a few moments in silence neither of us quite sure what we should do next. It was Mr Evans who broke the slightly awkward tension.

“So do you think this is a good spot? Should be secluded enough I’m hoping,” he said as he looked over and smiled. I was happy he had spoken up first.

“Yeah I think so. I mean I haven’t seen another car go past us since we drove down this road,” I said as I relaxed a little bit. I took off my seatbelt and he did the same.

“I was surprised to receive your messages while I was out at dinner with my wife. I thought there might be an issue with the kids at first as that’s usually the only reason the babysitter sends a message. But it was definitely a much more interesting message. I told my wife it was just a work colleague messaging me as I tried to hide my excitement. How did you know I would be interested in your offer and that I wouldn’t tell my wife our babysitter is sending me suggestive messages?” he said.

“Well every time I’ve babysat for you and your wife it’s hard to miss how you look at me. I’ve known you were interested in me for ages, so I wasn’t worried about sending you the message,” I said as I turned in my seat towards him.

“Was it that obvious? Damn I hope I didn’t come across as creepy,” he said and I laughed.

”No not creepy don’t worry. I was flattered an older man was thinking I was sexy. Made me feel pretty good.”

“Oh thank god! Last thing I wanted was to creep you out, and yes I think you are sexy. What man wouldn’t? I mean you’re an 18 yr old ginger goddess. Red hair has always drove me insane.”

“Ginger goddess!” I said and laughed out loud. “I used to get teased about being a ginger when I was younger.”

“Oh I meant it as the most amazing compliment Jessica,” he replied thinking he might have offended me.

“I know and thank you. If I’m going to be called a ginger I definitely prefer being a goddess version,” I said as I put my hand on his thigh. He looked down at my hand and smiled at me.

“It’s so exciting being here with you right now Jessica. I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. This might be too much information but my wife is rarely interested in any romantic activities so to speak. So it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything very exciting with a woman. I mean I’m 45 but I’m not quite dead yet,” he said and laughed. I smiled at him then slid my hand over his crotch in his pants.

“Well we can fix that Mr Evans. We agreed on $50 right?” I said as I rubbed him gently through his pants. He gasped as I touched him and I felt a definite bulge forming beneath my hand.

“First of all no more Mr Evans, call me David. And secondly yes $50. And thirdly oh my god I love how it feels when you touch me Jessica.”

“Ok then let’s get this show on the road,” I said as I unzipped his pants and reached inside to ease his cock out until it was sticking straight up. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and started to caress his length. He moaned and squirmed with pleasure in his seat.

“Oh my god! Jessica you don’t know how unbelievable it feels to be held by you. Just feeling your hand holding my cock is incredible. It’s so fucking sexy Jess. You are so damn cute Jess,” he moaned as he watched my hand slowly start to stroke him. I gave him a naughty smile as I handled his cock.

“You have a nice cock Mr Evans.. I mean David. You have a very nice cock David,” I said and watched as he lay his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and moaned with pleasure. I continued stroking him as his cock grew even harder. He stayed like that for a couple minutes then looked at me again.

“I can’t believe I’m getting a handjob from my beautiful 18yr old redheaded babysitter. Your hand feels so good Jessica. Just the idea that a gorgeous young thing like you is going to make me cum is blowing my mind,” he said as I continued stroking him.

“Is it sexier than your wife doing this to you?” I asked.

“Oh fuck yes! Oooohhh fuck it feels so sexy Jessica. Can you tell me what you’re about to do to me Jessica? It would be so hot hearing you talking dirty,” he said as he switched his gaze from my hand on his cock to my eyes.

“You wanna hear how I’m loving holding your big hard cock in my hand and how sexy it feels stroking it up and down, over and over, while listening to your sexy moans?”

“Oh god yes!” he groaned.

“You wanna hear how I’m not going to stop stroking your cock until I make you cum for me David? How I’m going to make you cum so hard your balls will be empty? How it’s so sexy jerking off a man who is old enough to be my father? How if I was your wife I would be making you cum every single day?” I said as I stared into his eyes. His cock was throbbing in my hand and precum was dripping over my fingers.

“Yes oh yes you beautiful ginger goddess! Ooohh I’ve never wanted to cum harder than I need to cum for you right now Jessica. Oh god you’re so amazing! Please Jessica, please make me cum for you!” he groaned. I could tell he was getting very close to cumming and I suddenly realized I was about to make a huge mess as we had no tissues or anything. I couldn’t stop to look for something to catch his cum so I just did what felt natural and I bent down into his lap and took his cock into my mouth.

“FUCKKKKK YES BABY SUCK ME!,” he almost shouted as he held my head and pushed my mouth up and down on his cock. He was almost using my mouth as a sex toy as he thrusted up pumping my mouth with his big hard cock. My eyes started watering as he pushed his cock into my throat and I gagged slightly as he fucked my mouth. My saliva was dripping from my lips down his cock as I tasted his precum, as he moaned out that he was going to cum. He thrusted hard and deep into my throat as jets of cum flooded my mouth, his cock jerking and spurting so much cum that it poured out from between my lips. I could hardly breathe as he emptied his balls down my throat.

Eventually he stopped and let go so I could lift up and take some big gaps of air. I sat back in my seat gasping as his cum and my saliva dripped from my mouth.

“Oh wow Jessica that was fucking intense! I can’t remember the last time I came that hard,” he groaned before looking at me and seeing me getting my breath back.

“Happy you …. *gasp* enjoyed it… “ I said a little breathlessly.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry Jessica I got carried away. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be quite that rough. You ok?” he said as he touched my arm. I was liking that he showed concern for me even after he got what he wanted from me.

“It’s ok I’m fine. Damn though that was a lot of cum. Has you been saving it up?” I said jokingly.

“I guess it had been a while since I jerked off. Honestly it made cumming for you even more amazing. I was so horny,” he said.

“I noticed,” I said and smiled. He reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out the $60 for babysitting plus another $50 for our naughty fun. Then he looked at me and pulled out another $20 and gave me $130.

“I was only expecting you to give me a handjob. The blowjob was an unexpected treat so I should give you a bit more than was agreed on,” he said.

“Cool,” I said as I took his money and shoved it into my pocket. He started up the car and turned around to drive back down the country road to take me home. As we drove he kept glancing over at me ans smiling.

“So I have to ask Jessica. Do you think you would want to do this again next time we ask you to babysit? For extra payment of course,” he asked hoping.

“Sure, why not. It was easy money. I always need more money,” I said as I looked over at him. He had a huge smile on his face as he got the answer he was hoping for.

“This evening just gets better and better,” he said as he drove me the rest of the way home💋

[luckhound]

gintoki + relationship headcanons.

↻ pairing ✦ gintoki/gender neutral reader

↻ request ✦ I read your rules and stuff, and I hope I read it right gsusvjddn can I request some relationship headcanons for Gintoki? I can't watch the final movie for Gintama yet and I am devastateD —anonymous

↻ warnings ✦ mild suggestive content, blink and you'll miss it; terrible attempt at humour

author's note: this is several years late but i Just started a rewatch and was reminded of my love for this story and its characters. so uh, better late than never?

First of all, you deserve a medal for perseverance. You managed to do the impossible by entering into a relationship with this man, who dodges romantic entanglements without even trying to despite the many possible love interests in the source material

Now you have to deal with a cheapskate who doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body. Congrats!

Don't expect to be taken out on a date any time soon; his idea of a good time is to recline on the couch and read Jump. Unfortunately, that doesn't change even when he has a partner who he could be spending his free time with

When the two of you do go out, maybe sit down somewhere for a bite to eat, Gintoki expects you to pay. What? He should foot the bill? With what money? Any cash that so much as brushes his hands is snatched up by the old hag (Otose), or gobbled up by the brat with the bottomless stomach (Kagura), or swallowed up by the pachinko machines that the idiot hits up (Gintoki)

Rarely do you have privacy. At any given time, a revolving door of characters will intrude upon your finite alone time with Gintoki; if it isn't the rare client asking for help, it's one of his friends annoyances (or so he calls them) stumbling into you two, or some two-bit villain hatching the latest evil plan that's plaguing Edo this week

Then there's Shinpachi and Kagura, who stick to the man like gum on a shoe. Sure, you do adore them, but babysitting two kids while trying to spend quality time with Gintoki can get old—you're dating a penniless samurai, not a struggling single dad!

Don't bother expecting him to get jealous or possessive; if someone were to flirt with you in front of him, it'd go right over his head

You would have to spell it out for him after the fact, and even then he'd stare at you with those dead fish eyes, wondering what you wanted him to do about it

Wait a second, you must be thinking. All of these bullet points so far have only listed the cons of dating this bastard! Where's the good stuff? What are the pros?

There aren't any, sorry to say. You're better off dumping him like yesterday's garbage and moving on to someone worth your time

Which is probably what Gintoki would say, if forced at gunpoint to answer truthfully; he has no clue why you tied your fate to him of all people

You, on the other hand, might reply with:

He's constantly finding excuses to touch you. His head in your lap while he reads Jump on the couch, his ankle brushing yours under the table when dining out, his arm tossed around your shoulders as you walk

As much as he loudly complains and huffs and rolls his eyes, he doesn't stop you when you steal food from his plate. He'll even let you swipe some of his parfait, despite threatening to make you pay for another. It'd be easy for him to slap your hand away, but he never does

Romantic he may not be, but you know just how much he wants you by the way he can't keep his hands off you when the mood hits; his every touch elicits shivers, his mouth never strays far from yours for long, his gaze dark and intent on you

There is no one more doggedly loyal than Gintoki. No one who cares more about your wellbeing and happiness. No one else who would put you first when it matters, protect you from anything or anyone that may try to harm you

For those reasons and more, you'll deal with the many downsides that come with dating Sakata Gintoki. Not always happily, mind you, but you'll do it anyway

("Why do they even put up with him?" Shinpachi wonders aloud, watching the two of you bicker for the fifth time that day. "Stockholm syndrome," is Kagura's immediate answer.)

[whimsicalmeerkat]

WIP Wednesday

@dear-massacre tagged me last week and when I asked what she wanted a snippet from she picked demon Stiles. Here’s the beginning of the next chapter of devil don’t take a break!

~

John grips the wheel, hands at ten and two, and tries not to panic or overreact or, god forbid, let on to Stiles just how out of his depth he feels. And not just feels. Is. John is a human man who fell in love with a soul eater. He still finds the world of the supernatural daunting and frequently frightening. Despite the apparent quiet in the last several years, having a trouble magnet for a son who is also a soul eater means John has been expecting some sort of drama.

He didn't expect Stiles to bond someone at 16, though. He's not ready for that by any stretch of the imagination. It's clearly happened, though. He is deeply curious about that story, but first things first. They have to find Derek and get him help before whoever plugged that hole in him comes back around.

Stiles is noticeably quiet on the drive to a part of town John rarely sees at night. It’s industrial, but it’s new enough it hasn’t picked up a reputation of being a good spot for crime. Other than teens getting bored and tagging up every wall in sight, that is. He sends a look in Stiles’ direction. He’s always suspected his son might have a bent in that direction if something pushed him just right.

When John sees Stiles is anxiously chewing on his hoodie string and jiggling his leg so fast it looks like it hurts, he wishes some light vandalism was the worst thing he had to face with Stiles.

“We’re almost there,” John tells Stiles, trying to project a calm he doesn’t feel.

Stiles just nods and worries the string with his teeth.

“It had to have been the Argents, but the MO is wrong,” Stiles says suddenly.

“What do you mean?” John asks, curious how much Stiles knows about the famous hunting family.

“Chris favors crossbows,” Stiles says. “That’s what he shot Scott with and Allison is some sort of champion archer. Why would he suddenly use a sniper rifle?

“The Argents are arms dealers, albeit legal ones,” John tells Stiles, hopping he doesn’t end up regretting it. “Chris is probably trained in all kinds of weapons. You can’t assume you know what he’ll use in a given scenario.”

John hates that he sounds like he’s preparing his kid for fights, but not as much as he hates how necessary it seems right now. Not in an active sense. He doesn’t hold with vigilantism, his son’s long term obsession with Batman notwithstanding. He hates knowing that at some point, his son will likely be in a situation that even his clever mouth can’t talk him out of. Honestly, the odds are decent he’ll have talked himself into the situation in the first place.

“Isn’t that the turn?” Stiles asks.

John swears and brakes the cruiser before pulling to the side of the street. He hasn’t overshot by much.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” he tells Stiles, secretly relieved Stiles was paying that much attention to his surroundings.

They get out of the car and Stiles immediately heads down a small alley between buildings. John follows, knowing the bond will lead Stiles straight to Derek. Claudia wasn’t hurt very badly or often, but John remembers how the general sense of where she was became something more like a homing beacon in those times. He takes a look around quickly, then follows Stiles.

“Over here,” Stiles calls softly as John enters the alley. “He’s passed out cold.”

John can’t help but groan. “We’re gonna have to carry him out.”

~

Low pressure tags: @lucky-bishop @eevylynn @thotpuppy @mswhich and anyone else who wants to play!

[rascals-forthememories]

Alex V. “Ajax” Johnson moodboard + random headcanons

🎸⋆➤Imagine him to be born in the early 80’s, ok 1988 which makes him a millennial of course, raised in very supportive but sassy asf parents, he could've been from the hood but he's too nice for hell. His momma is very good at coming up with insults, but she's got a very good voice, and dad is clever dude who knows life hacks n shi then they all moved to a citylife. He has to be a city boy...

🎸⋆➤He and Keegan were either childhood best friends bc they were neighbors, went to the same school, playing pranks and causing trouble but always having each other's backs. Their moms being friends is also a nice touch, maybe they even used to arrange play dates for them when they were younger.

🎸⋆➤Being a bit of a 90s video game nerd. Maybe he had a SNES and Genesis when he was a kid, and now as a teen he's moved on to the 360 or PlayStation. (challenging Jemima to random games or competitions, just to see who can be the more competitive) He might even have a Game Boy stashed away somewhere for all those late-night gaming sessions. He'd probably be the one to drag the others into retro gaming binges where they'd spend hours playing old school Mario or Zelda, until Merrick or Keegan finally puts a stop to it. Always trolling Keegan at Mariokartt, Ajax's goal isn't to win the race, his goal is to green shell Keegan in game.

🎸⋆➤Ajax as the 2nd bassist in the band, making it a duo with Keegan. Maybe they bonded over their mutual love for bass, spending hours practicing together and jamming out to their favourite songs. They could even have a friendly rivalry going on, trying to outdo each other during rehearsal and constantly one-upping each other's riffs and licks.

🎸⋆➤^And considering Ajax's "cheesy goofball" personality, I could see him always coming up with the cheesiest bass-related puns and jokes. Like when Keegan asks him to play a funky bass line, Ajax might respond with a cheesy line like "Oh, you want funk? I've got the funk, baby! I'll hit that note so hard, you'll hear it in your bones!" or "You want to make the bass sing? Well, I've got the perfect recipe - a pinch of slapping, a dash of popping, and a whole lot of attitude!"

🎸⋆➤Can beatbox decently but only to the point he can impress people who don't beatbox, not the crazy sounds. Hes just very good with rhythm and beat.

🎸⋆➤DEFINITELY be all over Keegan for having Jemíma, just picture him constantly teasing Keegan about her, saying things like "Hey, look who's got a pretty girl tagging along with him lately!" or "Hey, loverboy, can you spare a minute from your little date to focus on the music for once?" Maybe he'd even write a cheesy love song about Keegan and Jemima, just to get under Keegan's skin. "Love Ballad of the Bassists," anyone?

🎸⋆➤Ajax's bassist skills would pair with Keegan's - both of them are pretty damn good. But where Keegan is more technical and focused on precision and technical skill, Ajax would be wilder and more energetic, playing with raw energy and power.

🎸⋆➤Loves indie rock and the classic boy band sound of the Backstreet Boys. And the drummer covers are a great touch too! Maybe he stumbled across a video of a sick drum cover on YouTube one day and got hooked, spending hours watching and rewatching the performance and trying to mimic the insane beats. Now, he's a total drum cover enthusiast, always keeping an eye out for the latest and greatest covers on the internet. (Meanwhile, Merrick might roll his eyes at Ajax's love for drum covers, saying something like "Seriously, man? You're more obsessed with those drum covers than you are with actual music. But Ajax would just wave him off and say, "Hey, you're not the one playing the thunder-making instrument here)

🎸⋆➤Has a few other quirky habits and interests outside of music. Maybe a secret love for collecting vintage action figures or sports memorabilia, or a hidden talent for painting or drawing. A weird addiction to eating way too much chocolate or candy and strange obsession with collecting rare bands vinyl's like ''Yo check this out''. He’s also a bit of a wisecracker and loves to banter back and forth with his friends. Habit of accidentally dropping his bass during rehearsal and blaming it on the other guys, saying they spooked him or something.

[fanonimus]

Remember, you asked.

First, you misunderstand the batfamily's concept, or what fanon made them to be (canon is a lil shit we don't like bc its inconsistent.) I would not call them brutal, in the slightest. "Brutal" means savage, uncontrolled violence, which you could say is true to the batfamily, but they are not "brutal" as a family unit, and rarely brutal as individuals. The violence is more often than not stricktly neccesary.

The batfamily is inherently human, a huge family made by choice, with flaws, grief and anger coating every bond, because of the line of work they are in. They are different, yet they still find comfort and familiarity in each other. You can call them toxic, because they are in canon, but the fandom had managed to make something better, something functioning out of it.

The batfamily heals each other, and they offer a place of healing for others.

But then, why DP? You asked.

First, there is the obvious joke we should adress, the adoption bait Danny is. Black hair, blue eyes, trauma is basically Bruce waynes exact adoption type.

Second, Danny has a broken homelife, as much as people want to overlook it. Jack and Maddie are not good parents, fixated on their job, neglecting their kid. Because it is neglect, even if they love him.

Oh look! A sudden point that comes up! Paralells.

Danny's relationship with his parents brings a paralell to Tim's relationship with his own. The Fentons and the Drakes both love their son, but their job is always more important. They were not fit for parenthood, and they have no clue what to do with a child.

And lets not forget that Danny died a pretty traumatic death, which realistically would cause a fourteen year old biig ptsd, which I feel like is not properly explored in the show (shocker). And then he is brought back by this green goo (more on ectoplasm later), which brings us our second paralell, which is Jason Todd. Jason also died a traumatic dead at age fourten, and then was brought back to consciousness by green goo.

So, you have a teenage vigilante with black hair, blue eyes who had to die to gain his powers, is super traumatised, and hunted by his own parents, also has a creepy old man who wants to make him his sucsessor.

Yeah that is another paralel to Tim, and surprisingly Dick. (Slade when I cach you...)

I dunno about you, but Danny just fits into this little found family thing they have going on.

But what about Jass, I hear you asking.

Jass was also neglected, and then forced to take on a third parental role when Danny was born. Her love for psychology is not an accident, she wants to provide the best life for her brother, and emotional growth can only be supported by an emotionally mature person.

Add that to the fact that her brother technically died at fourteen, and you get a pretty good gist about how much trauma she herself might be repressing, which is an amazing point of discusion in any media.

Now onto the worldbuilding, and why DP adds so much to the DCU.

First, lets address the elephant in the blog, green goo. The lazarus pitts make so much sense as contaminated ectoplasm, it's not even funny. Ectoplasm is what ghosts are made out of, its what gives them life, what helps them heal. So it would make sense that it would assist with bringing back a person, but really wrong. It's dirty with age, and death, that's why it works as it does. It's an excellent plot drive, with Danny hellping Jason overcome the effects of this horrid thing inside him, and it also gives us an exciting premise of Jason being somewhat an opposite of Danny. Fully dead, and fully alive, not some half this half that. Jason is not just a ghost possessing his own body, he's him, he's still one, body and soul, even if he died.

Second, the GIW (Guys In White/Ghost Investigation Ward) and the AEA (Anty Ecto Acts).

The AEA goes against Meta Protection Laws, dehumanizing ectoplasmic beings and taking away every right denizens (residents of the infinite realms/ghost zone, more on that later) would deserve as sentient beings.

This brings in a tension point for the justice leauge and the gowernment, makind for stellar drama. Also a tension point for Damian and Jason, who are considered Ectoplasmic beings (lazarus pit).

The GIW are the enforcers basically. They experiment on denizens, they are a government organization, and such.

The implications of the Infinite realms, and how it fits.

As we know, the DCU is a multiverse, with a lot of different universes, The ghost zone, or Infinite realms, depending on who you ask, is basically the veins of the universe, and the ectoplasm is its blood. There, it fitts nicely, I am not going into politics bc that is really author dependent.

All in all, the two just fits together so perfectly, it would have been strange not to decide a crosover is due.

This is all I have right now, if I missed something, feel free to tell me.

I genuinely want to know where DC×DP got started. Who looked at this brutal, angry, violent family and said "you know who would go great with this? An overrated nickelodeon cartoon about ghosts" like ?????

[fortune-maiden]

I can’t get over how adorable Phil of the Future really is >.<

Phil & Keely are friend goals

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently