#Not just some cutesy all-caring baby?

[supersunshine10]

This is legit the most “literally me” I have felt to a Tumblr post tbh,

Never have I ever agreed this much to such a specific Tumblr post about a cartoon, but you are SO REAL for this! Agree 100%!

Holding myself back from writing a rant about fake Snoopy fans rn. *inhale* I'm a grown adult. *exhale* I can do this

[acid-ixx]

"hostage situation"

series masterlist

nightwing, to his siblings: okay, so we have to be real careful because the joker and harley quinn are holding our baby sibling hostage and we can't put them in anymore danger.

nightwing, looks at red robin: i'm sure they have some traps laid around the lair so you'll be disarming it.

red robin, nods:

robin: then me and todd will be handling any spare targets, no?

nightwing: of course. cass, steph and duke will be guarding the entrance. babs?

oracle, speaking in the intercoms: this is the closest point of entry where (name) is being kept hostage.

red robin: security cams suggest there's more than just harley and the joker in the lair. a bunch of their goons are heavily guarding both the entrance and the exit. we should thread carefully.

oracle: there's no camera's where (name) is exactly at, but there's a specific room where it's shown that the two are often visiting.

batman, who had been lurking behind them: this is a priority mission. we can't afford to make mistakes.

robin, eyebrows raised: though, is it necessary to bring the entire family? me and my father could handle this entirely by ourselves.

jason, sighs: don't pretend like you weren't the first to suggest the entire justice league to come searching for them, kid.

batman: enough arguing, (name) needs all the support they could get after this. so on my count, we are to bust open the door.

dick: alright, everybody, prepare.

*meanwhile, inside the lair, in a makeshift "house"*

(name), sitting on a comfy chair whilst holding a cup of hot chocolate and a book in the other, sneezes: oh— did anyone mention my name?

harley quinn, already on her way to wipe their nose: oh my baby! is our baby sick?!

(name): no, i just suddenly sneezed?

the joker, in another room: i spy with my little eye, a child way past their bedtime~ c'mon babyboo, let's get you to bed!

(name): awe, but it's like, 10pm. i wanna read some more.

harley, about to pick (name) up: then let momma read the book for you in bed, cutesy pie—

*the door to the kitchen slams open*

dick, with his escrima sticks on-hand: surrender (name) to us now or—!

dick, absolutely befuddled: wait, what?!

damian, with bruce in tow: what's the hold up, nightwing?!

damian, about to jump right in front of dick before he was stopped by bruce's hand on his shoulder: what is... this?

bruce: ... explain the meaning of this, harley.

harley, holds (name) closer to her chest as she's equally confused: what do ya mean, bats? ain't it obvious i'm taking care of my child?

(name): uhm...

damian, visibly offended: what do you mean, your child? (name) over there is ours.

the joker, walks over to the room in a hurry: what's with all the commotion over here?! (name) is supposed to be in bed, harle— batman?!

bruce, with squinted eyes: don't act stupid, what is this all about?

nightwing, surveying the room: wait, why is (name) in pajamas?

(name), trying their best to shrug in harley's tight hug: i'm... supposed to go to bed...?

the joker, about to walk over to (name) before he's stopped by a batarang almost hitting the side of his head: hey! what's that for? i'm clearly not trying to attack my own child!

bruce: (name) is my child, not yours.

the joker, glaring at batman: well, it's not my fault they choose me over you!

(name) wayne, interrupting the two: uhm... i did technically disown myself from the family so—

damian: disown yourself?

(name): i have every reason to—

dick: look, baby bird, you don't know what's right for you, these guys are dangerous—

(name): i literally got nearly killed by some nobody criminals if not for harley saving me but okay, nightwing.

bruce, whose attention is now on (name): you almost got what now?

(name), rolling their eyes: i almost died, batman. now if you excuse me, i think i deserve a good night sleep tonight.

(name), looks at harley who still hasn't released them from the protective hug: can we?

harley quinn, facepalming in her mind as she stares back at (name): oh, i should've bought you to pam and selina instead.

[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[astrow0rldx]

pac 18+ their sexual desires for you

one

"In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day. Fuckin' and fightin' on It's our paradise and it's our war zone It's our paradise and it's our war zone". could be in a relationship already, or they desire to court you, take you on a date, outside walking, living together, cutesy romantic things. someone could have hurt someone, now they want to fight you back sexually. or just hurt you in the bedroom, mentally and physically. they could desire you to be this siren coquette person, where your mysterious and don't show to much affection or care for them. play mind games on them. which may be your reaction to getting hurt, or what's hurting them. but at the end of the day they want to feel tied to you, committed to you and your where home is. a lot of people have that taste in relationships, where they don't want all of them unconsciously, but they want them to be theirs. but this fight in the bedroom, is going to be chaotic, and may want to use handcuffs, ropes, etc. even risky sex where it's so much fire passion you have a baby, now you are trapped. they could want to keep this relationship professional, or surface level in a sense, take it as it resonates. they want to fuck and argue like married couples though, but them being the one you come to too fuck on a bad day and you come to them about all your problems. any type of psychological problems you have, they want to fuck it out of you, they want to see it come out while your fucking, they want to fuck you in the state of being so hurt and broken you don't even want to fuck. but whats coming through strongly is the surface level, mysteriousness, detachment, & professionalism of the connection, the conflict and heartbreak of it, and realizations that is prominent in their sexual desires.

two

they could be dreaming about you, delusional, fantasizing. trying to control and tame themself because you are so fucking sexy. they could be thinking about undressing you and exploring your body. they could desire foreplay, going out to eat, or making food for you. kissing, making out, hugging, on top, bodies together then he gets to slowly undress you. you could be kind of perfect to them, or like they met their match. because they have a lot of ideas, and imaginary energy when it comes to you. in an animalistic, passionate way. they desire to uncover your mystery, see your wild side. exchange kinks. see how you would look with their dick in you mouth. see what it would be like if y'all started a competitive, bratty game and fucked till both of you guys was timed out, but the sex be so playful, expressing, fun, and bright. they want to balance their emotional side with their sexual side. after care, dates, making food for you, helping you with your clothes. even making family stuff, mom/dad/kid involved. them being the daddy. my advice, that outside of the question, make them wait lol. be more teasing till the finish line.

three

im getting a vibe of we about to get some shit straight type of sex. you don't know what i'm going to do to you when i see you. maybe for some they are proving their loyalty and how much they are standing on business for you. when you get inside the bed they are going to be persistent, long lasting, stamina. very excited to see you, celebratory sex. the adrenaline of like sneaky link type of sex "this shit feel like teenage fever". "who came to make sweet love..not me. when we... fuck". they say but they desire to transform something with this sex, maybe they desire to come back into contact with you and kind of hesitant, but they desire you. for most of you they kind of want to be in and out of your life, coming and going when they please and you still being (one) of their girls. but they want both parties to be chill on their own in their own life. but for some it is an energy of being no contact, or at a distance. maybe needing some type of travel, or time and building to get to a certain place. and they kind of desire the ability to be at peace with you. they could desire helping you in a certain way, financially, sexually, or just with love when your feeling a lack of it and be each other peace of mind/sex. bring peace and material abundance so you can be good on your own feeling satisfied.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied non/con, extreme pet play, dehumanization, psychological/physical abuse, and unbalanced power dynamics.

commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.

Sometimes, you really do think Suguru thinks of you as a pet.

It shouldn’t be as difficult to believe as it is. Of course you’d be less than human to him, less than equal to the god-like status he has among his followers. But, Suguru knows he’s not a god, and while you might not be the only person he claims to be superior to, you are the only one he keeps locked in a steel-barred dog crate padded only by thread-bare blankets and distant memories of what it felt like to sleep in a real bed. You’re special – albeit, not the kind of special you’d like to be. You can disregard most of his grandiose speeches about ‘complete non-sorcerer elimination’ and ‘killing off those worthless monkeys’ as the self-indulgent rambling of a deranged cult leader, but he doesn’t seem to be phoning it in when it comes to you.

He doesn’t talk to you. Communication occurs solely through blunt orders (come, sit, bark, etc.) or sweetened, syrupy baby-talk, cooed as his fingers card through your hair and pet down the length of your spine. You’re expected (something learned purely through trail and error, reward and punishment) to follow him around happily, to sit at his feet and clamber into his lap whenever his eyes find yours and he taps his thigh, that expectant smile already tugging at the corner of his lips. Depending on the day, you’re either coddled and adored like a beloved pet, allowed to walk on two legs rather than four and fed treats out of his open palm, or treated like a stray who’d wandered in off the street and refuses to leave. You do prefer the former to the latter, but it doesn’t really make that much of a difference, not if you’re being honest with yourself. Either way, you always seem to end up on your knees between his legs as he sits above you, a fist curled around your collar as he tells you to lick, puppy, lick.

Speaking of – you’re not allowed to wear clothes. You used to hate it, to steal his shirts and hide in closets, to do anything you could to salvage what little pride you had left, but it’s hard not to get used to something forced onto you so constantly. The only thing Suguru’s ever given you to wear is a simple, black, leather collar – studded with silver spikes and drawn tight enough to bite into your throat when he pulls on it, which he does often. You’re thankful he doesn’t make you wear those cutesy animal ear headbands or, god forbid, a tail, but not as thankful as you should be. As unbearable as it’d be, having him dress you up like a cat or a dog or some wide eyed, sexed-up rabbit would take the edge off. Like this, it’s harder to believe he thinks of you as an animal, as something cute and small and vulnerable that he can love and care for. It’s harder to deny that he knows you’re human – he just doesn’t see why that would ever mean you couldn’t also be his pet.

You think, when you’ve exhausted all other silver linings, that it’s (partially, at least) his excuse to keep you. You know what he does to people who aren’t like him, you’ve seen what he’s like at his worst, and you know that, if you weren’t his pet, you’d just be another non-sorcerer, another nuisance the world would be better off without. If you’re a pet, you can’t be a person, and if you’re not a person, it means he’s not going against his warped ideals when he pulls you close to his chest, when he ghosts his lips over the top of your head, when he fucks you so softly and so gently, you can almost believe he cares whether or not you enjoy it. Pets are supposed to be loved, and so he’s not doing anything wrong by loving you.

You know what would happen to you if you weren’t his pet, too, if he couldn’t make excuses for himself. You’ve seen how wide his smile can be when he comes home with blood on his clothes, how little effort it takes for him to hook his hands under your arms and carry you to his bed, already muttering about how perfect he’s going to make the world for his pretty, precious pet. You’re not allowed to leave his cramped apartment, but he talks about putting you on display for his acolytes as he ruts into you with an almost animalistic brutality, about showing all of those filthy, degenerative insects what a well-trained mutt looks like. You know that you should do more to fight back, that your humanity should be worth more to you than a few half-hearted escape attempts and the occasional pained whine, but you’ve seen see what he can do, heard about the dismembered bodies he leaves to rot in a ditch behind his temple, and—

And, no matter how much you hate him for it, no matter how much you hate yourself for it, it’s true.

When it comes down to it, you’d rather be his pet than be nothing at all.

[letstrip13]

୨୧ - cramps

summary: your boyfriend comes over to take care of you when you get your period

warnings: none, just enjoy cutesy bf!chris. not proofread!

word count: 819

author's note: day 3 of posting blurbs!! send requests for blurbs or fics!! also over 600 likes on my last blurb is insane, i haven’t gotten that many in so long tysm!! 𖹭

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you're laying on the couch in your apartment's living room, all curled up in the only position that can provide some relief from the pain. your period came this morning and by this evening, the horrible day one cramps had hit.

about ten minutes ago, you had texted your boyfriend, chris, to come over to cuddle and watch a movie. he wasn’t too far so he’d be showing up any minute now.

another few minutes tick by when the door you left unlocked for him comes flying open. chris bursts through the door holding an overflowing grocery bag in each hand as he calls out to you, sounding urgent, “baby?!” you sit up in a panic, worried by the tone of his voice. “i'm in here!”

he rushes into the living room and drops the bags on the coffee table, almost knocking over the scented candle you had burning in the process. a giggle slips out of your lips, the panic quickly replaced by confusion and amusement. “what's all this, my love?”

he looks up at you, an expression so nervous that you just want to run your fingers through his hair and give him a squeeze, but you let him speak.

“i- umm.. it's everything you need for your period. i know it's hard for you sometimes.. so i wanted to make it better.” the confusion courses through your mind again. you hadn't mentioned it when you texted him. “wha- how'd you know?” a soft chuckle escapes him. “you always ask me to come cuddle when you're on it.. and we've been together over a year, princess, i know you.”

“you're so sweet, i don't know what i’d do without you, chris.” his face breaks into his usual charming grin. “wanna see what i got?” he kneels in front of the couch where you're sitting and he places the bags in front of him.

first, he pulls a box of pads and a box of tampons, placing them next to him. “just in case you needed more,” he adds with a sheepish smile, “i hope i got the right ones.” “you did great, baby.” a relieved smile crosses his lips and he continues digging through the bags.

he pulls out a hot water bottle complete with a cute cover, pink with little red strawberries scattered around it. then he follows it up with a bottle of generic painkillers. “the lady at the store says these will be good for your cramps,” he tells you with a proud little smirk.

he takes out a pair of black fresh love sweatpants and the zip-up hoodie to match. “these because i know you forgot to get some last time you were over,” he pauses and digs around in the bottom of the bag and pulls out a pair of purple fuzzy socks with black cats on them, “..and these because i know you love halloween, even if it is a little early.”

you watch him carefully, hanging on to every word he says but you remain silent, words having left you for the time being. he takes a different approach with emptying the second bag, opting to just dump everything out in front of you. out tumbles a pile of your favourite snacks, chocolate, and candy, as well as six bags of honey bbq fritos which chris starts to ramble on about, “i was looking for these for so long. i went to so many different stores and gas stations this week but they were sold out every time. i saw them today and thought might as well buy them all-”

he's interrupted with a choked sob escaping your lips as hot tears roll down your cheeks. the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend's loving gesture gave you such an overwhelming feeling of adoration. but mixed with the heightened emotions as a side effect of your period, you can't help but cry.

chris quickly notices and rushes to pull you into his arms, doing his best to soothe your sobs. “is something wrong? did i buy the wrong thing?” a few slightly louder cries come out of you before you can hold it together enough to speak. “no, it's all perfect. you're-” you manage to gasp out between sobs, “perfect. i love you so much. thank you.”

you can feel a rush of air leave chris at his relief. “oh good. i thought it was about the fritos. they're not all for me, you know.” you laugh, the tears quickly being forgotten as he wipes away the traces of them on your cheeks.

“how about we cuddle and watch a movie?” you nod, getting comfortable on the couch and grabbing a blanket for the both of you to share. “sounds good to me.” you rest your head on his shoulder and pick a movie. he gently tilts your chin up to place a soft kiss on your lips just as the movie begins.

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[cherryredstars]

parent!reader waking up one day, entering the kitchen and seeing dad!miguel taking care of their 6 month old baby while he fixes breakfast for the two of them because he didn’t want to wake them up so they could get some rest, and then just absolutely getting the worst baby fever known to man, because why wouldn’t you if that’s what you were waking up to every day 🤭🤭 that is all

(also thank you for all your hard work, you are single-handedly sustaining me and I need you to know that 🥹❤️)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Wanting More Children

Summary: Early mornings with baby babbling and chocolate chips.

A/N: This request is so cutesy!!! Thank you for sending it in, love!!

Word Count: 930

Why is it so bright?

A deep groan leaves your lips as your eyes squint against the beam of sunlight coming through your window. You sigh deeply as you turn over, grumbling into your pillow and closing your eyes again. You can feel your body beginning to melt back into the mattress when you hear something clatter to the ground. On instinct, your arms push your body up as alarms start ringing in your head. Your head feels woozy from home quickly you moved, but your eyes are frantic as you look around the room. The nerve-endings firing throughout your body calm within the next second, the sound of watery baby laughter filling your room from outside. A smile forms on your face when hurried hushing follows, which only makes the laughter louder.

Slower this time, you push yourself up and out of bed. You shiver the moment your feet hit the cold wood flooring, letting out a breath. For a moment you debate on making the bed, but the sound of pans and baby clapping convinces you to save it for later. You walk towards the bedroom door, and the second you open it the smell of batter hits you. Your stomach growls in response, saliva gathering in your mouth as you open the door further and walk out and into the hallway. The further down you walk, the closer the sound of kitchen clutter and baby babbling becomes.

The moment you emerge from the hallway, you can feel the way your heart expands. You lean against the entrance, crossing your arms with a smile on your face as you take in the sight. Your baby girl babbles nonsense to her dad, kicking in her highchair with half-eaten mini chocolate chip pancakes on her tray. On the floor is a missed spot of syrup, and guessing by the discarded baby bowl on the counter, the noise from before was her playing around. Your husband stands at the stove, a mess of pancake batter, fruits, and chocolate on the counter besides him. You don't know why the man needs so many butter knives and bowls to make pancakes, but you let him do his thing since he's the one cleaning them. He responds to your baby with oh's and aw's, pouring batter into the pan and flipping it with a spatula after a few minutes.

You're content to watch the scene forever, but your baby has other plans. Sensing your presence, your baby turns to you, her already there smile growing larger at the sight of you. Her hands slap down on her tray in excitement, happy babbles leaving her. You can't help but laugh, making your way over to her and picking her up the moment she makes grabby hands at you. Her hands are slightly sticky from syrup, but you've grown used to it, already knowing you'll be showering later. Her hands come to your face, cupping each of your cheeks as she gives you a smile. You smile back, giving her a surprised face before laughing at her elated reaction.

Her eyes shift slightly away from your face, moving to something behind you. It's the only warning you get before large arms wrap around your waist. Messy curls brush against your chin as warm breath fans your neck. A soft kiss is placed on your skin and pleasant shivers run up your spine. You turn your head and smile at the sight of Miguel.

"Hey, handsome," you greet, adjusting your baby on your hip so you can run a hand through Miguel's hair. He hums against your skin, placing one last kiss before pulling his head away from your neck.

"We didn't wake you, did we?" He asks softly, his arms unraveling around your waist until his hands are planted on your hips. You shake your head, turning back to your daughter and blowing a raspberry against her cheek. She lights up at the action, babbling and trying to replicate the noise. It causes both you and Miguel to chuckle, and you melt into his chest.

Miguel has a large smile on his face when you turn to him, love clearly shining in his eyes. When he looks down at you, that look on his face softens. He leans down and you smile against his lips when he kisses you. Even after having a kid together and being in a relationship with him for so long, you can feel the butterflies pinging against the lining of your stomach.

"Thank you for making breakfast."

Miguel smiles back, shrugging. He reaches his arm out, taking hold of the corner of your darling girl's bib and wiping away a bit of drool running from her mouth. "Anything for the two of you."

You don't think your heart has ever been more full. You turn to him, opening your mouth to say something when you pause. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. "I think... your pancakes are burning."

Miguel eyes widen and he curses, ignoring your scandalized gasp and reminder that the baby is present as he rushes to the stove. Your baby simply laughs at her father, clapping her hands. You can't help but join in, shaking your head as you watch Miguel scrape burnt pancake batter off the bottom of the pan. He throws you both a playful glare, sticking his tongue out for his daughter's amusement.

As you take in the scene, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind expanding your little family. Maybe your heart has a little room left to be filled.

[dwaekkicidal]

The Party

˚ʚPerv!Emo!Han Jisung x Cutesy!Fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Fourth part of 'The Incidents' Series; based off of this ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: told from his pov, jisung is a huge perv/creep, alcohol consumption (reader gets "drunk" and ji had a few sips), dubcon/noncon, exhibitionism, mean-ish jisung, degradation, name calling (use of whore and ji calls reader a stupid cry baby once lol), nipple play (f), grinding, cumming in underwear (both), Jisung carries reader on his back at the end

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: Italics are Han's thoughts! also the picture is just a reference for the outfit i had in mind :)

The Incidents Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han stares up in awe at the giant house before him. It’s in a rich neighborhood not far out of town and he easily recognizes the expensive and shiny cars as belonging to some of the well-off kids. They flaunt them everywhere so it’s hard not to recognize them.

He glances down at his text messages, rereading the instructions you sent while nervously fiddling with the collar of his leather jacket. She said just to let myself in… He slowly walks up the walkway of the house, laughing to himself in disbelief at how loud the music is being played. He could hear it loud and clear from inside the damn taxi.

When he finally gets to the porch he sends you a text and opens the door hesitantly, only opening it a few inches to squeeze in without bringing too much attention to him. Once he closes the door and turns, his jaw drops. The inside is huge and has at least 50 people in the living room alone, let alone to giant crowd he can see in the kitchen and hallways. A familiar head pokes out of the kitchen and rushes towards him, a big smile on his face.

Han recognizes the boy as Yeonjun, a tall guy who he used to have dance class with in high school, and who shares a few mutual friends. He smiles back, waving shyly as the boy takes long strides up to him. “Yo!! Han! Nice to see you, man. Y/N told me you were coming but I didn’t think I’d see it haha.” Han chuckles and nods, “I didn’t think I was gonna come either, but she asked so...”

Yeonjun wraps an arm around his neck and leads him around the house, giving him a small tour as they seek out the girl in question together. The taller boy stops occasionally at little tables with snacks and drinks, making sure Han is taken care of before marching onwards in search of those bouncy pigtails. The kindness is more than welcome but Jisung is far from his comfort zone and can't help but chat timidly. He was going to give up and attempt to call her, but suddenly he heard a squeal from his left.

He turns in time to see Y/N running up to him, dressed up in all white and somehow showing more skin than usual. Her shirt parts in multiple places, showing off her cleavage and some side boob as well as her tummy. And no bra..? Is she nuts? His eyes flicker to the thin string that holds the top together and he can feel his eye twitch.

A hand on his shoulder cuts him out of his trance, almost making him fall from the sudden weight. Yeonjun leans in and chuckles, lowly whispering to Han as if anybody could hear them over the music. “She already had a few cups so good luck. If you thought she was touchy before, you can’t imagine how she gets when she drinks.” Han’s eyes widen at the warning, but before he has time to ask what he meant Yeonjun is already gone. The feeling of a body clutching onto his arm has him turning back the opposite way, taking in the rest of her features as she mumbles words at him.

“My goshh~ I didn’t think you’d actually come, Sungie... ‘Missed you soooo much. hehe...” He chuckles and cringes, not sure how to respond. However, he’s not even given a chance to because she starts dragging him down the hallway to the game room where some of her friends are grouped.

About 3 hours pass before Jisung finally settles in, still very uncomfortable but slowly opening up to some of the people there. Y/N had a cup and a half more before everybody began sneaking her water meanwhile Jisung was still on his first cup, only having taken a few sips. He’s too busy zoned out and staring at the floor to realize that they’re almost alone, his mind too busy over the white lace garter that decorates the thigh of his love interest. He’s leaning back on one of the leather couches in the game room, and aside from the few random people who are spread around busy playing their games, or sucking each other's faces, it’s fairly vacant.

Then the song blasting throughout the house suddenly changes to a new one. A slow sensual one that, if he wasn’t so preoccupied, would’ve made him uncomfortable from the sheer seductiveness of it. But this poor little emo boy only realizes once it’s too late: once two hands covered by those familiar white arm warmers rest on his lower tummy. He tenses up and his face darts up to stare at the girl, almost offendedly. Even from this distance, he can smell the sugary sweet sangria on her breath and, for once in his life, the idea of her touching him makes him uneasy.

Y/N smiles, bites her lip, and crawls on top of him, planting a knee on either side of his hips. She leans in until their noses almost touch and Han has half the mind to back away as much as possible. But she only pushes further until she's almost completely pressed up against him. Her hips press down and she looks up at him from under her eyelashes.

His hard-on is resting perfectly against her mound. There’s no way she doesn’t feel that. His brain fries and he stutters out her name in confusion, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders to hold her back. She ignores him completely in favor of slowly running her hands up his stomach and to his chest, pulling the chain around his neck so that he leans into her.

She giggles at his reaction and lowers her hands onto his, pushing them back and lower to rest on her ass, where she then leaves them and wraps her hands around his neck. Those glossy lips of hers are caught between her teeth as she leans into him, her voice low and seductive. “Sungie~” He doesn’t try to move his hands, why would he? He’s enjoying himself. But he does slightly freak out at the thought of people walking in and seeing a freak like him groping the hottest girl on the planet. “What are you doing?!” He looks around the room to make sure there are no prying eyes but her smooth voice drags his attention back to her.

“C’mon~~ Don’t you think I'm pretty?” Her flushed cheeks are almost unnoticeable in the dim lighting but boy does he see it. Their lips ghost and he feels his dick twitch in his jeans when he feels some of her lip gloss get transferred to him. Fuck. I was doing so well today too… “Don’t you want me?” Her voice lowers with each word until she’s whispering against his lips, finally pushing her own against his. His heart beats out of his chest but he lets his eyes close and his hands move up to her waist as he reciprocates the kiss. Her tongue pokes out in an attempt to deepen the kiss and he reluctantly lets it happen. His head spins when their tongues clash and he finds himself losing control when her lip gloss smudges all over their chins. Holy shit... She tastes like strawberries... 

Eventually, they pull away to breathe but she wastes no time and dips down to his neck, leaving sloppy kisses along his Adam's Apple as she mumbles incoherent sentences against it. If the slurring of her words wasn’t enough to discourage him, the recalling of his earlier conversation was. The uneasy feeling from earlier is quickly forgotten when Yeonjun’s voice replays in his head. His hand roughly digs into her hair and pulls her away so that she’s sitting up straight. The moan it pulls from her only makes him harder.

“You know… Yeonjun warned me about how touchy you are when you drink. You do this with every man you get your little hands on?” He whispers against her ear. “N-No only for you, Sungie. I promise~” She pouts and he narrows his eyes at her, not believing it for even a second. “Yeah? Then why does he seem so familiar with how you’re acting right now? You probably whore out every time they have one of these parties. Am I supposed to be your next victim?” Hell. I don’t think I’d even mind being a victim to her.

She whimpers and frowns, shaking her head rapidly and unintentionally rubbing herself harder against his hard-on. He closes his eyes to focus on breathing; while this newfound confidence is nice, he doesn’t think it’s enough to push any further than this, so he just doesn’t respond. Instead choosing to stay quiet and let his other hand squeeze the fat of her thighs, engraving the feeling in his mind. Who knows when I’ll get another chance like this? Might as well take advantage of it too... He knows he shouldn’t. She’s drunk for fucks sake! But GOD does she look so good like this... On my lap, all desperate for me.

The hold on her hair is loosened as he lets his hands roam all over her body. They start at her thighs: running his fingers over the flesh there softly before flattening his palms against her ass and squeezing them, spreading them apart in the process. He glances up at her shutting eyes and nodding head, thinking to himself for a second as he mindlessly fondles her ass. He wonders just how far he can get before she sobers up. She’s gonna fucking hate me... But also, she looks so drunk that she might not even notice. OR remember for that matter.

With every passing second he feels his morals fading away until he eventually decides that today is the day he gives no fucks. Let her find out. Fuck it. His hands move up to her hips again and pull her down, dragging her clothed pussy over his bulge like she was doing earlier. She sighs and closes her eyes all the way, spreading her knees to allow him to pull her farther down. He bites his lip and looks around, staring intensely at the last 2 people in the room who were too busy sucking each other’s faces off to notice his actions. A whimper of his name pulls his attention back to the girl above him. His hooded eyes meet hers as she stares down at him, the neediness painfully obvious. He smirks and tilts his head, playing dumb as she starts to move her hips on her own again.

“Hmm? What’s wrong Y/N?” His hands trail down her thighs and he licks his lips as he stares down at them. His pointer finger and thumb rub the fabric of her lace garter as he waits patiently for her to respond. When she doesn’t he pulls the elastic back, letting it snap against her soft skin there. It pulls a delayed squeak from her and he continues to smirk cockily. The hand moves back up and plays with the hem of her skirt. He can faintly see the dark colored panties she has on and he’s itching to see it. He glances up to see her eyes fluttering open and closed again. She won’t notice...

Then he grabs the fabric and pushes it up against her tummy. He holds it there as he peeks between her legs, watching her pretty panties soak more and more as she pushes down more against him. Her pretty, red panties. You fucking whore.. The hand resting on her ass rises and comes down, slapping the bare flesh there meanly and pulling a shriek from her. “You planned this shit, didn’t you? Asked me for my favorite color just to wear some slutty panties to entice me?” And they’re fucking sheer again. She looks down at him with watery eyes and whines, placing her hand on his shoulder as her hips continue to move. The silence that follows is all the answer he needs. 

He snakes his right hand up her body, stopping at her chest and pinching her nipples through the thin fabric. “Stupid little crybaby... Slutting yourself out for anybody who will give you the time of day.” The hand comes down on her ass again and her hips falter. “Did I say you could stop?” Her head rolls and she continues instantly; he can feel her obedience awakening something new in him.

His right hand slides through the top hole of her shirt to grab a handful of her boob, squeezing it as he leans in. He licked her other nipple through the fabric, sucking and nibbling it as her hips continued to rut against him. Eventually, though, the fabric was preventing him from feeling her up properly and it irritated him to no end. The alcohol in his system tells him to rip it open, but the sober side of him shuts the idea down instantly, so he grabs the top string of her shirt, pulling it roughly and freeing her chest to the cold air in the game room. She gasps and tries to cover herself with her arms but he grabs both of her wrists before she can. “Don’t even think about it. You wanted to act like a whore so I'm treating you like one.” He pushed her arms out of the way and grabbed handfuls of her chest with both hands, aggressively massaging the mounds of fat as if proving his point.

He leans back in, releasing the death-grip on one of her boobs and wrapping those pretty pink lips around her bare nipple. His now free hand moves to her ass, slapping the skin before grabbing her hip and grinding her harder against him. Her hands trail into his hair, grabbing handfuls and tugging it as she moans loudly. “S-Sungie! Ahh~” Her sweet voice crying out his name was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge, and the hands in his hair gripped tighter as she came with him, both of their faces scrunching up in pleasure as he continued to move her hips against him and lick her nipple.

Eventually, they both finish riding out their highs and she sleepily wraps her arms around his neck and hides her face in the crook of his neck. He let her stay there as he caught his breath, hands rubbing up and down her back soothingly. He very quickly hears soft snores coming from her and gets up, laying her softly on the couch as he does so. Standing in the same place she was just 10 minutes ago gives him the perfect view to stare down at her, mind boggled at the way she still looks so hot despite being completely ruined.

Her lip gloss was smeared all over the lower part of her face and her lips themselves were swollen and red. Her shirt was still spread wide open, letting anybody who walked in see her pretty tits. His eyes traced the red marks he left against the pudgy skin there as her chest rose and fell with her breaths. Her one nipple had a pretty red tint on it from his insistent suckling. Her skirt hung loosely around her waist, rising with each breath and giving him the perfect view of her panties that were now darkened from her cum. Now I get to see it in real-time.. haha…

Pride filled his chest as the realization hit that he did this. Not Yeonjun. Not Juwon. Not one of those stupid ass frat boys. Me. The post-nut clarity and sudden soberness were almost enough to send him spiraling as another realization filled his head. The realization of what these emotions meant. Feeling jealousy at the thought of other guys touching her and happiness at the feeling of being the one to make her cum in her little red panties. Before he could dwindle further, the girl whined from her spot on the couch before yawning loudly and stretching. Then her sleepy voice filled his ears, “‘Wanna go home Sungie..”

By the time he fixes her outfit, she's fast asleep. Jisung puts her on his back and piggybacks her through the hallways and down the stairs. As the sole of his boots landed on the expensive tile, he quickly realized that nobody was around. The previously packed living room and kitchen were now left in a giant mess and it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. He had so many questions but opted to ignore them for now and adjusted the girl on his back, inching her farther up so that he didn’t drop her.

As he stepped onto the front porch, he was met with a familiar face. Yeonjun cackled out loud at the sight of them, startling the boy and almost waking the sleeping beauty on his back. “You guys are still here? I thought you took her home ages ago??” Yeonjun smiled at him, watching Han breathe deeply to calm the heart attack that he almost had. “Just take her to your house, man. None of her roommates are going home tonight so she’ll be locked out if you go to her place.”

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at the taller boy, “Are... Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she trusts you. And would you rather her sleep in your bed or her apartment hallway where anybody could take advantage of her?” Jisung visibly gulps and nods silently, pushing past the taller boy to meet the taxi that slowly pulled up behind him. He settles her in carefully, almost lovingly, and walks to the opposite side to join her in the back seat. He waved awkwardly at Yeonjun, who watched them and waved with a menacing smile on his face. 

As Yeonjun waved them away he smirked to himself. “That little minx... She’s got him wrapped around her finger haha.”

Taglist: (purple=can't be tagged)

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

@easypeezylemonsquezy @iiriam @soaplickerrr @kimahreummm

@seungfl0wer @4l17h4 @moonlightshostage @whyisaah

@lostgirlinthewoodss @kookiesbunny @piscesrising01 @adollsmind

@iheartbangch4n @evan-rose @klyde06 @ihrtlino @shuporanporang

@zerefdragn33l @sailor--sun

[deadghosy]

DUUUDE OMG as someone who had a HUGE creepypasta phase I'm obsessed with your hazbin hotel x creepypasta reader fics omggg

Anywaysss could I possibly request a Hazbin Hotel x Sally Williams reader? Completely platonic obviously :)

HAZBIN HOTEL X SALLY WILLIAMS! READER

prompt: a small child with a bloody body accidentally visits the hotel of a cartoon she only saw once

“BENNN! I wanna be in a cartoon..” you says whining to Ben as you grip your teddy bear. Ben rubs his chin thinking then smirks. “What kinda cartoon?” “One with friendship! Like My little pony.” You said with an adorable smile. “What about a better cartoon…” Ben said with a evil smile

And now you are now in the cartoon called Hazbin hotel as you just stood there sobbing at not seeing ponies. Where’s fluttershy? Where rarity? AND WHERE THE HELL IS TWILIGHT SPARKLE.

You must have caused a bad scene as Alastor had took your hand and brought you to the hotel for shelter. You told the “nice” man your friend made you come here making Alastor think you got killed by someone. But what’s a child like you doing here?…..

When the whole crew met you, they found you adorable but they were concerned on why a child, most likely a “human” child like you is in hell.

You have a room next to the next lesbian couple. After they cleaned you and having you wear shoes..which didn’t go well so they let you wear a new pair of white socks as you wore a cute pink dress.

Vaggie felt something about you was off. But she felt like heaven had not let you in. So she didn’t press any farther.

Angel gives you fat nuggets because he trusts you to look after him as he works. He never told you what he does for work but you enjoy keeping fat nuggets some company.

You dressed fat nuggets up as a pig princess. Angel found it cute and funny as he took a photo of it to remember the memory forever.

The most to baby you is definitely the Morningstars and Alastor a little bit. As Alastor felt to protect when he first seen you. He always tells you to smile at most to not let anyone see what’s underneath.

Alastor takes you on strolls at times. Even taking you to cannibal town where you can meet his dearest friend. Rosie, an overlord who takes on the cannibal town.

Rosie absolutely adores you! She called you sweetie pie all the time you visit her with Alastor.

I imagine you gave husk ponytails as he just grumbled drinking. He didn’t feel the need to scold you, you’re just a kid. Kids don’t know no better.

You and husk’s dynamic is “drunk uncle x pretty pink princess kid”

Husk hates to admit it but he likes your presence as you help him clean. Although he tries to tricks you to not clean the glasses so you won’t cut yourself.

Lucifer definitely tries to take care of you how he did for Charlie and it’s so wholesome as he would bring you ducks to your room that across of his.

He is such a overprotective father figure-

Angel and you have such cute fashion shows together as you both dress up like princesses💗

I headcannon that Charlie and Lucifer would spoil you rotten like getting you cute dresses or whatever you want as long as you are happy.

I can see that if it was your birthday, it’s as if Christmas and a birthday was combined as you get so much gifts😭

Niffty definitely teaches you how to clean as she always wanted to teach someone how to clean without ignoring her.

I can imagine you trying to contact Ben somehow as Ben is being interrogated back at the mansion as slenderman is chasing Ben with a pan demanding where you are at.

Sir Pentious lets you In on his machine shenanigans as you just smile with the egg boiz who hold your hands.

You showed your teddy bear to Lucifer who cooed at you as he made you a duck that had bear ears..you were weirded out at first but appreciated it. It was nice to get gifts! 💗

I headcannon you like greeting the residents in the hotel as they greet you back not excepting to se an actual human child in the hotel

I can see Angel dust having Velvette make cutesy outfits for you as he likes to see you as a little sister.

I can imagine you just doing that evil ass child laugh to scare the residents…you little ass menace

[reveluving]

heartburn ; the ghoul x reader

summary: kindness gets people killed in the wasteland, and yet, cooper can't help it when it's you.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), pre-war performer/entertainer!reader (for your creativity!); now an immortal ‘smoothskin’, soft as hell but our lovely ghoul is still a loud mouth, age gap but not really (think of him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but both in 200-ish years old), typical fallout violence & explicit language, loads of banter & fluff!

a/n: it’s here! based on this because the brain rot was (and is) so real. decided to call this the ‘la rouge series’, just to make it easier for tagging and when any lil’ pieces/asks come in. hope you guys enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

» smut includes: possessive soft & slightly mean dom!cooper, ‘pretty girl’ & baby as pet names, dirty talk i.e. + about exhibitionism (it doesn’t happen tho!), body appreciation, nipple play, spanking, fingering, a bit of edging/teasing, unprotected s~ex (p in v), bits of aftercare but overall, coop likes it nasty.

'It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.' ;

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the sheen of perspiration building up along your body, despite the cooler night, albeit marginally as opposed to the day. Had it not been for the ceiling fan, no matter how slow it gets once in a while, you were indebted to its existence. 

Especially at this exact moment, throwing your head and watching the contraption spin above you as Cooper bucked up into you. 

Lucy had dozed off, you checked an hour prior, finding her asleep in the old guestroom when you stopped by. Maximus, too, snoring away on the wingback chair next to her. Whether it was because you entered with light steps or the duo were bone-tired, you had successfully spread the thin sheets over their figures before turning the table lamp off—all of which Cooper watched behind the door, feeling an overwhelming emotion brewing in him. 

You barely knew them, hell, he was there when you shot Lucy a chilling look, realizing she was the daddy’s girl, but beyond that, you also saw two souls who were… lost. A set of strangers who wanted nothing more than to do the good thing, even if you didn't agree with their beliefs. And yet, the old caring nature in you couldn’t help but offer at least some form of appreciation for their humanity. 

You held yourself back when Lucy babbled, even if—when you wanted nothing more than to cuss her father out. You didn’t lash out when she asked about your time in the shelters way before her mother was around. You acknowledged Maximus’s good intentions, even if they were a little gullible. 

Cooper noticed it all, and fuck, if your unmoveable kindness wasn’t disgustingly the sweetest and sexiest thing he had ever seen.

It all felt like a typical romance movie after that, when you crossed paths in the living room, with you on your way to the kitchen when he stopped you. Delicately (and uncharacteristically, you might add) holding your wrist and tugging you to his chest to stare into your dreamy eyes. How a smile naturally bloomed on your face as you reached for his jaw. He indulged in your cutesy behaviour, as he always does, angling his head to kiss your palm while your eyes remained locked. It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.

Not that you couldn’t handle them, if anything, putting him in his place wasn’t unheard of—you knew how to shut him up with that aura of yours from time to time.

But make no mistake; he knew how to get you tongue-tied, too.

He dipped his head, and the kiss that came was nasty. Swallowing your little gasp when he took hold of your jaw. 

“Here?” You whispered incredulously between giggles when he led you to the couch. All he gave you was a grunt, falling back into the seat and pulling you with him. Your legs snugged around his as he encouraged you to sit, not hover him. The soft tune that played in the kitchen reminded you of a scene out of a cheesy porno from your old days, and when he hummed along, you knew he had the same thoughts, too.

“It's our house,” He grinned, “Means our rules.” 

“Uh-huh,” You humoured, amused as you shook your head, but the use of ‘our’ did send butterflies to your stomach, “Mind elaborating, handsome?” 

He explained all-too-happily, “It means y'got every right throw y'guests t’the doghouse if they start yappin’ ‘bout indecency.”

You say that now, but you knew he would shoot one in between their eyes for ogling you clothed, let alone in your glory. He has done it before. 

Countless times.

But you’d kick him to the doghouse if he ever got blood on your floors. And just to piss him off further, you’d allow Dogmeat to sleep on the bed with you. 

“You'd like to do that, wouldn't you?” I snorted.

His eyes lit up, taking your words as a green light, “Y'offerin’?” 

You smacked his chest. “I know your games, cowboy. Room’s not far, y’know?”

“Aww, c'mon,” Calloused fingertips traced up your legs before slipping under the skirt, alternating between kneading and smacking your ass repeatedly to hear your squeaks, “When's the last time y'and I messed ‘round in the livin’ room?” 

“Just last week.” You huffed, partially from the way his hips rolled against yours.

With any lack of action and the undeniably warmer weather throughout the day, you thought it was time to enjoy the night breeze with a slit skirt. The hems were slightly burnt off from past confrontations, involving a near-fatal experience with a Molotov cocktail, but besides that, it was relatively intact. 

And just like you, it was Cooper’s favourite piece, too.

“Mm,” He acknowledged with a grunt, “Far too long t’me.”

He leaned back, arms spread across the backrest while looking at you expectantly

“Y’gon’ take it off f’me or…?” He asked. You rolled your eyes—as if you could ever refuse him. 

But you couldn’t just give it to him, right?

You sat back, poised and coy, toying with him when you gazed up at him through your lashes. In the mood to give him a little show as it seemed like your guests were going to stay out cold for a while.

You were definitely teasing him when you popped the buttons of your shirt, only to let it droop around your elbows, just enough to get a glimpse of your cleavage and pesky black bra. 

Reaching over, you dragged your index finger from his Adam’s apple, down to the collar. His overcoat long gone for your convenience, uncovering his chest without problems.

He was always intrigued, and if he was being honest, in disbelief by your fascination—by your need to have him unclothed in some form of way, despite his condition. The wariness grew over time, and he had not only relished it in but encouraged you for it, too. 

Bunching up and pushing your skirt to the side, his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He sighed, feeling the patch of wetness that soaked through the fabric. He was excited as you were, eager to feel you against him as he shifted under you.

He raised his fingers to his lips, sucking on his middle finger sloppily and groaning at your taste before dipping them under your panties. He straightened, pulling you forward by the back of your head as he prodded a finger into you. The position had you arching, chest to chest as he forced you to moan in his ear. 

At your mewls, he was more than content to give you another, sinking his ring finger in bit by bit to feel you clench desperately. 

He revelled in the warmth, the tightening of your warm walls as if fearing he'd pull out. The more you felt him curl inside you, the more useless it was to muffle your cries. The embarrassing squelch didn’t help either, but how couldn’t you, with that romantic stunt he pulled moments ago?

He tapped on your hips, silently requesting you to hold yourself up for a moment while he shoved his pants down. His cock stood with pride, twitching at the cool air and the anticipation to feel what his digits were feeling.

Pushing your panties to the side, he lined up the head of his cock to your pussy.  He was practically dreaming of feeling you sink onto him at once, already bucking his hips to fill you to the hilt. Instead, you took him in ever so slowly, bit by bit before raising your hips till there was nothing more than the tip of him in you. Taking him in little by little as he teased you with his fingers.

“Y'tryin’ t’kill me?” He gritted out.

“You can handle it.” You cooed back, already losing composure as you felt up his chest.

He groaned, eyeing you dangerously only to shudder when your thighs slammed against his. You felt full, hell, you were full, needing a moment as your fingernails dug into his skin. 

“Fuuuck,” He groaned, tipping his head back though forcing himself not to close his eyes to watch your tits bounce as you moved faster, “Look at y'go. Yeah, ride m’cock, pretty girl. Juuust like that.” 

His praises had you pulsing around him, but so did his desperation. Slowing down once again to feel him buck under you. 

But there was also something else about tonight.

Familiarity was putting his feelings lightly, unable to tear his eyes off as images of the same smile, maybe just a tad more innocent about the world, flashed before his eyes. Remembering his lucky encounters with you when you were both stars. When the two of you had dreams. When your worries at the time were nothing more than bringing joy to the people who watched you perform like you had hung the moon. 

He could never forget admiring you and your artistry, similar to how you marvelled at his productions in awe, even after when they were nothing more than a man on a horseback before it all went to hell. 

And to have him before you once more, albeit a bigger menace than you thought was possible, he was still your Cooper Howard.

Your cheekiness was wiped off when his hand dropped to your ass with a sharp smack, the slap drowning out the radio for a split second.

“‘Y'had your fun.” He growled. His hands held onto you so desperately, similar to the way you grappled onto his shoulders for support.

Your button-up was sticking to your skin just below your breasts, and as much as Cooper loved the little striptease, he wanted more. 

He pulled the article further down by your sleeves, where you shuddered at the feeling of Cooper’s lips latching onto your skin. The sensation rough as he nipped at your rib. He surged forward, salivating as he sucked and tugged on your nipple. He let out a heady groan, tasting a hint of salt while rigorously bouncing you up and down his cock. 

You were what pin-ups couldn’t emulate, what poets or authors couldn’t convey with mere words. 

Anyone, surface dwellers and vaulties alike wished they could have you.

He crept one hand in between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. He didn’t relent when you trembled, when you tightened as you came hard. Not even when you spasm, overstimulated when he continued to thrust in and out of you.

He held you down longer than you would've liked, too obsessed with the way your walls fluttered around him. Begging for some form of friction as you clamped him like a vice. The mewls that followed were music to his ears, frustrated in the cutest way when he did nothing more than flash you an infuriating smile.

A tight one, you noticed. Unable to hide his own need for long as your juices dripped down to his thighs. He was… a little sick in the head—who would’ve thought—abstaining himself from chasing the high for just a moment, just to amp up the pleasure and feel his desperation sated as if he finally deserved the ‘treat’.

“Coop…” You mewled, nearly choking on your spit as his iron-clad grip forced you to feel each and every ridge of him up to the brim, “Coop–! Please! Please move, please—fuck.”

Oh, how cruel of him to deny you. Especially when you sang for him so sweetly.

You raised your head, lips parted as his eyes bored into your teary ones. Even when you became lost in your lustful haze, only able to churn out nothing but his name as hushed moans, he couldn’t miss the small dazed smile flickering across your face. 

He couldn’t resist, reaching up to brush across the pads of your plush lips. And as hooked as you were over the proximity, you placed your hand over his, keeping it on your cheek. 

Your eyes screamed for him to go faster, to put you out of your misery. He pitied you to some degree when he rolled his hips.

“That too much? No, y'can take it. M'pretty girl can take what I give.” 

“Gonna fuckin’ come in’ya, y’hear me?”

“Oh, you’re tearin’ up, feels really good, doesn’t it, baby?”

He slammed you down as soon as he came, thighs sticky and flushed. His grinds slowed down, chest heaving till he had his last spurts of cum in you. He traced his hands along the bruising spots he had left on your hips, then up your sides, tickling you.

The corner of his lips twitched at your tired giggle, catching your breath with your face pressed against his shoulder.

“Y’liked that?” He matched your amusement, reaching over the dry towel conveniently draped on the arm of the couch and wiping off the sweat dripping down your back. 

“Mmm.” You hummed into his skin, already comfortable against him.

“Y’really liked it,” He reiterated, finding your playful eye-roll worth it, casually dragging the cloth under your chin and the area between your breasts before tossing it to the side. He let one arm outstretched on the backrest, “Y’need some water or somethin’?” You thought for a moment; you’d need a sip or two after all that, but you could hold it off for a few minutes. 

“In a bit,” You returned to snuggling in his arms, much to his satisfaction, “Can't you just carry me to bed?” 

“I would, but…” He trailed off. You followed his line of sight when it fell to his lap, not only reminding you of the mess but also if he stood up, well, you might as well fall with him if his pants dropped to his ankles. You knew he could clean you up and buckle his pants before carrying you to your room with no problem, he just didn’t feel like it.

And, well, you understood him.

“Fine,” You sighed, feigning resignation even though a little smile was playing on your lips. You knew each other too well, “But if I hear rushed footsteps or that girl yapping about ‘my eyes’, I blame you.”

“Not the first time you’ve ever blamed me for anythin’—m’poor ol’ heart,” He pretended to weep, placing a hand on his chest, only to catch yours when you tried to smack him for it, “See? Unloved, by m’own girl.”

You shared a laugh, and when he pulled his rest on your waist once more, you knew none of you were going anywhere. 

In minutes, you were finally able to take in your surroundings, recognizing the chorus playing in the background, a classic of Dean Martin’s, one that even Cooper couldn’t help but hum to. It was soft, no more than within your hearing range, even bobbing his head to the beat. You followed, too, and to your surprise, the two of you coincidentally sang a particular line together. 

♫ Your love made it well worth waiting ♫

♫ For someone like you ♫

You turned your head to head to the side before he could look at you after spotting the knowing smile he was sporting. And as the song came to an end, eyes droopy as he instinctively rubbed your back, his hat tipped down. 

You couldn’t help it, craning your neck and planting one final kiss, to which he eagerly returned before your bodies melded into each other once more. Relaxed and protected from the dangers outside your safe haven, even for just a moment. So long as both of you were still breathing, you’d take the bull by its rotting horns in stride.  

♫ Everybody loves somebody sometime ♫

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: fun fact! ignoring the fact that the concept of the game is inspired by the 50s and burlesques would no longer be as famous then, one of the many entertainer options I imagine for the reader (depending on the fic) is burlesque (?) dancer, which very much inspired this piece! not necessarily as her job in the old days but someone who knows a thing or two about it! but again, as the reader, you have the right to imagine whoever you or your mc however you’d like! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[singmyaubade]

My cat was just hit by a motorbike and heavily injured, I can't afford to take him to the vet, so for the past few days I've been taking care of him, I just need a little comfort, a fluff James Potter fanfic maybe?

that sounds awful, i’m so sorry you’re going through this. i really hope your sweet cat heals quickly, and i’ll be sending you all my prayers/thoughts to help you through this.

if there’s any way i can help, let me know, i’d love to help spread the word (venmo, cashapp, whatever works) if that could help. in the meantime, i’d be happy to write you that james potter fluff — you deserve some comfort right now. sending you so much love <3

--

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

bf!james potter x gf!emale!reader

summary: well, don't you wanna wrap me up and mistle touch under the tree?

warnings :p : pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension

You and James had one of the weirdest problems when it came to your relationship.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Not always in a sexual way, but more of a nurturing one.

It was common in most couples, but you and James just couldn’t seem to separate, no matter how much your friends begged.

Whether it was sitting on his lap in the common room with the rest of your group, or wiping butterbeer off the corner of his mouth.

Or even rubbing lotion on him when he could’ve done it himself.

Truthfully, you and James would even cuddle on the hottest days if it meant touching each other.

It wasn’t intentional, and you hadn’t really noticed the habit until your friends pointed it out.

"You and James are bloody inseparable!" Marlene huffed, and Sirius agreed with a knowing smirk.

You scoffed, "That is so not true," You argued, shifting to sit on James’s lap right then and there on the couch in his parents’ lodge.

Remus snorted, which made you shoot him a glare as he nervously took a sip of his hot chocolate.

"It’s not that we totally hate it!" Lily tried to reason. "But it is constant," She added sheepishly.

Your mouth dropped open as you turned to Dorcas for help.

Dorcas shrugged, "I actually can’t argue with this one, Y/N, sorry," She pouted, crossing her arms as you leaned back into James’s chest.

"Yeah, I think you guys are just a bit jealous," James said, snuggling closer to your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You giggled at the ticklish feeling as Marlene gave you an 'I told you so' look. You quickly stood up from James’s lap.

"Fine!" You huffed, "Me and James won’t touch each other for the rest of the day!" You stuck your tongue out playfully, and James immediately looked like a kicked puppy.

"Wait, baby!" He whined. "That’s not the solution to this."

Sirius was enjoying this little bet way too much. "What are you willing to put down, M’lady?" He asked with a grin.

"James will give you 10 Galleons," You said confidently, standing tall.

James groaned loudly, "First, you bet not to touch me, and now you’re betting my money?" He pouted, reaching for you, but you moved just out of his reach.

"Jamesie," You whispered, leaning into his ear in that sultry, sweet voice you knew he couldn’t resist, "Do this for me to prove a point, and you’ll win a prize."

James’s pout disappeared in an instant, replaced by a grin as he stood up with you. "You got a deal!" He said as he looked at Sirius, shaking his hand.

"They won’t make it to the next hour," Marlene snorted, and Mary giggled at the sight of James already reaching out for you again.

--

Originally, you thought that you and James could get through this.

I mean, how hard could it be to not intentionally touch each other? It wasn’t like that was your only love language.

But every time James called you beautiful that afternoon, you just wanted to place kisses all over his face.

You had to do your best to resist, though.

So, when your friends decided to go on a snack run, you and James volunteered to bake snickerdoodle cookies together.

The group exchanged looks, clearly doubtful that you both could pull it off without touching each other.

"Yeah, no. You guys will definitely break the bet. We need eyes on you," Marlene snorted.

"Fine, leave Peter here. He’ll tell you if we do anything," You said with a matter-of-fact tone, while the rest of the group reluctantly agreed.

Peter shrugged, not exactly thrilled, but fine with the arrangement, as he settled onto the couch, giving him a clear view of you two in the kitchen.

And then, it had been an hour since the rest of the group left, and you and James weren’t doing that bad.

Other than a few accidental brushes, you both seemed pretty firm in sticking to the bet.

An hour in, and things were going surprisingly well. You and James were managing to bake the snickerdoodle cookies without breaking the bet—so far.

You carefully measured out the flour, while James cracked eggs with exaggerated precision, all the while glancing over at you.

“Y’know, I think I’m actually starting to like this challenge,” James said, his voice teasing but his eyes soft. “I get to look at you all day without touching you.. and it’s actually really hard.” He admitted at the end.

You smiled, biting your lip as you kept your hands busy stirring the dough. “I can see that,” You teased. “You’re practically eyeing me like I’m the last snickerdoodle on the planet.”

James grinned, but there was a hint of something more in his smile—something that made your chest feel a little too full. “Can’t help it, love. You look so beautiful when you bake. I just want to reach out and—” He cut himself off, faking a shiver. “It’s torture, I swear.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him as you took a quick glance at Peter. He was too engrossed in his show, completely oblivious to the playful tension between you and James.

"Too risky," You said with a teasing smile, glancing back at James. "But the reward can be the fabulous snickerdoodle cookies I bake for you."

James sighed dramatically, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed as if he were fighting the urge to pull you into him. “Reward? I don’t need a reward, I just need you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” You teased, giving him a pointed look, but your heart was racing.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? No kisses, no hugs, no little cuddles? What’s a guy to do?”

You leaned in just a little, your face inches from his as you whispered, “You’ll just have to settle for this.” You gave him a cheeky smile, unable to resist the playful glint in your eyes.

James's eyes followed your every movement, the air between you thick with unspoken words. His hands were gripping the counter tightly now like he was trying to resist pulling you closer. “I hate this,” He said softly, a frustrated smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to kiss you. You don’t even know how badly I want to.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had to force yourself to look away and focus on the dough. “We agreed, no touching. We’re doing just fine.”

James let out a dramatic groan. “You’re not helping,” He muttered. “Every time you look at me like that... I swear, I’m about to break the bloody bet myself.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips. “I’m trying my best, James. It’s you who can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.”

“Well, if you’d stop looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, maybe I’d stand a chance.” His voice was teasing, but there was a sincerity behind it that made your chest tighten.

James was incredibly distracting in this position. It took almost everything in you not to close the distance between you two.

You sighed, moving back and trying to keep your distance as you added another spoonful of cinnamon to the dough. "You’re really making this difficult, aren’t you?"

"Absolutely," James said with a grin, leaning a little closer, though still careful not to cross that invisible line between you. "But I have a good reason. You’re ridiculously cute when you’re focused. And if I did touch you right now—"

You cut him off, putting your hand forward to create space, "Nope. Don’t even finish that sentence, Potter."

"Potter?" He pouted, using his puppy dog eyes, "You're wounding me baby."

You giggled at his playfulness, rolling your eyes. “One kiss,” You whispered, finally giving in to the tension between you two.

You quickly glanced over at Peter, relieved to find him completely engrossed in his cartoon show, blissfully unaware of rule-breaking a few feet away.

“Block me,” You said with a grin, giving James a slight push. He immediately moved closer, using his taller frame to shield you both from Peter's view.

James leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a quick, soft kiss. But before he could deepen it, you pressed a finger to his lips, stopping him.

“Not so fast,” You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

James pouted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re cruel.”

But you couldn’t help it—seeing him like this, wanting more, and knowing you couldn’t give it to him yet made you feel a little victorious.

Eventually, you forced James to continue baking, trying to keep both of you focused on the task at hand. Surprisingly, the cookies were actually making it to the oven despite the constant teasing and tension between the two of you.

James was working, but only half-heartedly—his eyes kept drifting to you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, like a soft tug at your chest. Every time you caught him looking at you, it made your heart skip a beat, but you couldn’t give in. Not yet.

Finally, you placed the last tray of cookies in the oven, breathing a sigh of relief. “We did it,” You said, glancing over at James, but before you could even finish the sentence, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his hand lightly grazing yours as he reached for the counter.

You both froze and for a split second, the world seemed to stop. His eyes locked with yours, dark and full of mischief.

"Just one more.." He whispered, taking a step closer. "You’re making it so hard, you know that?"

You could feel your heart racing, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t just about breaking the rules anymore. It was about him, and the way you couldn’t help but want to be closer, to feel the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips.

James leaned in, just a fraction of an inch, like he was waiting for you to stop him. And for a moment, you were ready to give in.

But then, you saw Peter's head turn just slightly from the corner of your eye. You both immediately snapped back, the distance between you instantly felt as painfully obvious as the rule you were both struggling to follow.

You sighed dramatically, stepping back, though your hand still hovered near his. "You really are impossible, James."

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “I know. But I think you like it.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you quickly turned to the oven, checking on the cookies just to distract yourself. "Alright, alright. We’re so close to winning this. No more distractions.”

James, however, wasn’t ready to give up. He stood behind you now, just close enough that you could feel the heat of his presence. "But we’re not breaking the rules yet, right?” He teased, his voice low and smooth.

You shot him a look over your shoulder, lips twitching into a smile despite yourself. “No touching, James. We agreed.”

He huffed in mock frustration but stayed right there, leaning just a little closer, so close you could almost feel his breath on your neck. "I swear you’re trying to make me lose my mind."

You giggled, the sound light and carefree, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but feel completely at ease. "You're doing a pretty good job of it on your own."

James smiled, his lips curling in that irresistible way you could never resist. He didn’t make a move to touch you this time—though it seemed like he was about to. Instead, he simply stayed close, the quiet hum of the moment wrapping around you both.

You both stood there, just on the edge of breaking every rule, but for now, it was enough.

James’s voice broke the silence, softer now, just for you. “I’m going to win this, Y/N. And when I do, you’re going to make up for every second we’ve spent apart.”

You could feel your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “We’ll see about that, Potter.”

The cookies were almost done, and the rest of the group had finally returned to the kitchen, their voices carrying through the hallway.

"So, Peter, did you see any touching?" Lily teased, eyes gleaming with mischief as she looked at you both.

You and James exchanged a quick, guilty glance before Peter shrugged, still glued to his show. "Nope, they just baked," He said, completely oblivious.

You and James both let out a sigh of relief at the same time, eyes meeting in a shared, victorious moment. The bet was almost over, and you had not touched each other—well, mostly not touched.

And then, just as you both took a step toward each other, eager to celebrate your (mostly) successful bet, Sirius spoke up with a dramatic, teasing voice.

"Nuh-uh," He said, wagging a finger like a parent scolding children. "Not yet. Not till the rest of the day!"

You groaned playfully. "Sirius, come on!" You whined, but even the complaint didn’t sound all that serious. "You’re the worst."

James crossed his arms in mock indignation, his lips puffing out in a little pout. “We’ve been good,” He said, giving you a pleading look. “We didn’t touch! This should be a reward!”

Sirius glanced at his watch, a grin tugging at his lips. "You both still have two hours before the bet is completely over," he teased. You and James pouted, both of you groaning in exaggerated frustration.

"Two hours?" you whined. "That's forever!"

James crossed his arms dramatically, leaning against the counter. "I’m starting to think you made this bet just to torture me, Y/N."

You laughed, nudging him playfully. "Oh please, Potter. You’re the one who wanted to prove you could win."

"Okay, how about we play a board game?" Marlene interrupted, clearly trying to put a stop to the obvious flirting between you and James.

The rest of the group immediately agreed, and you all settled in to play Monopoly. You shot James a playful look as you sat down next to him, knowing full well that this would probably be just as ridiculous as the bet you were trying to hold out on.

Marlene raised an eyebrow at the two of you, clearly sensing something was up but not saying anything. "Alright, let's see if you two can manage to keep your hands to yourselves during this one."

You grinned and nudged James with your elbow. "Oh, I think we can handle it. Right, Potter?"

James shot you a dramatic wink. "Oh, I’m definitely focused. No distractions here."

But that did not continue to be truthful because every time you reached for a piece, you’d accidentally brush his hand or your elbows would bump.

Each time, you both giggled and pulled back, pretending to be serious about the bet, but the playful look you exchanged made it clear you weren’t fooling anyone.

The game went on, and with every turn, the distance between you both seemed to shrink.

At one point, you both reached for the same piece at the exact same time. Your fingers brushed, and you both froze for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“Oops,” James said with a grin, pulling his hand back dramatically. “Guess we’re terrible at this.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were grinning just as much. “You’re the one who’s distracting me, Potter.”

“I’m distracting?” He laughed, pretending to be offended. “I think you’re the one who’s making it impossible to focus!”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to stifle your laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d be so mad right now.”

“I know,” He winked. “It’s my best quality.”

Sirius playfully rolled his eyes at the both of you but that still didn't stop the moment.

The game continued with more silly moments—James trying to accidentally brush your arm while reaching for a piece, you pretending not to notice when his leg bumped yours under the table. You both tried to act like the bet mattered, but every little touch and teasing glance only made it more ridiculous.

At one point, you stood up to grab a piece from across the table, and of course, James stood up at the exact same time. You both awkwardly bumped into each other as he tried to scoot past, and you couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing was.

“You’re making this harder,” You said between giggles, trying to regain your composure but not moving away from him.

James just grinned, looking completely unbothered. “I’m doing nothing. It’s you who’s making it hard.”

You laughed even harder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the game ended and your friends started to clean up. You and James were sitting side by side, still grinning at each other like two kids who just got caught doing something silly.

You exchanged a glance, and before either of you could say anything, your hand instinctively reached out for his. His fingers immediately curled around yours, and the room seemed to fade into the background for a second.

Sirius, noticing from across the room, grinned and said, “Well, well, look who finally broke the bet.”

You and James just laughed, completely ignoring the teasing. You were both just too happy to be together.

James reached into his wallet, handing Sirius the ten galleons, immediately looking at you.

“Worth it,” James said with a goofy smile, giving your hand a little squeeze as he picked you up from your waist and spun you around.

You nodded, your smile matching his. “Definitely.” You said, kissing him sweetly.

Sirius shook his head with a chuckle. “You two are impossible.”

You were.

But honestly? You didn’t care. Because at that moment, you were touching James, and it was the most perfect, thing in the world.

[icallhimjoey]

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Petnames you call them…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

Michael

He doesn’t tend to react differently to any petnames you call him, even for the very first time, but somehow he always knows you’re referring to him. Michael, Mike, Mickey, Mick- you called him Mickey Mouse once and he just stood there with his typical -_- and you laughed your way to an asthma attack. If you’re looking for a guaranteed head-tilt-to-the-side-like-a-puppy reaction, any variation of “pookie” will do it. Pookie, pooks, shmookums, the more sickly sweet and oddly fitting to The Shape, the better.

Pinhead

Does not tolerate being called “pincushion” when cuddling so stop doing it. Also does not tolerate being called “cheese” when he takes some of his pins out of his face and you can see the holes in his skin. Prefers the more casual petnames like “babe”, “love”, “handsome” because when compared to his more flowery and poetic language, Pinhead enjoys the simplicity of those terms coming from you.

Brahms

You KNOW this mf loves any petname that babies him, including “baby”. Anything sweet and endearing - including literally calling him “sweet” - like “beloved”, “angel”, “pretty boy”, “sweet boy”, and even “handsome man” because he will PREEN under your praise.

Art

Likes it when you call him silly but sweet things: your “favourite clown”, “court jester”, “silly boy” - he likes when you call him yours, especially. Because Art cant speak, he appreciates when you reciprocate his sign language and gestures just as much as he does your petnames, if not more; Art likes when you flick his nose after he’s flicked yours, when you beckon him over with a gesture like he does to you. Communications that are only understood between the two of you.

Sun and Moon

These two are pretty self-explanatory: they like petnames that are synonymous with them. Sun likes to be called “sundrop”, “sunshine”, “sunbeam”, “light of my life”, “rainbow”; Moon likes to be called “moondrop”, “moonlight”, “star”, “starlight”, “lucky star”, etc. The closer it is to their names and the more creative it is, the more they’ll enjoy the petname!

Marta

None of your typical petnames apply here, and you have to be careful what you call Marta if not her name. She does not like flowery petnames or cutesy ones, or flirty ones because those are sinful - if you call her “angel”, she might actually kill you - but she does like compliments, so it’s probably best you stick to those. Calling her “strong”, “righteous”, “God’s trusted and humble servant”, those will all go down well. You’re walking on eggshells testing out new petnames, too. Sometimes she will scoff but yield to you calling her “pretty”, because in her heart Marta is just a girl <3

[annievrse]

robbers

chuuya x pm!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic w/c: 0.9k c/w: chuuya calls reader 'doll', guns & murder (ur literally a sniper) a/n: this was gonna be a lot more angsty, but I wanted some cutesy gross relationship shit, so here u go, my babies. enjoy!!

Zooming in your scope, your eye is trained on a familiar redhead. You watch as he tries to talk his way out of an infiltration mission that had gone awry 10 minutes earlier, and with you as the Port Mafia's sniper, it's your job to ensure Chuuya gets out of there unharmed.

The earpiece lodged in your ear fizzles a string of words you can barely focus on, but you press it and talk anyway.

"Yes, Aktuagawa is on the roof," you mumble, lifting your head to confirm the questions streaming through your ear. Squinting into the setting sun, you see the younger boy walking along the edge of the building, hoping to get a better angle to attack. "Will take my shot. Over."

As you try to get comfortable, the leather of your vest and pants drag along the concrete roof you lay on. Steadying your breath, you aim for the head of the mastermind behind the organisation that had been killing ability-users for sport.

Now, you hold your breath and squeeze the trigger. There's no sound, but your hurried exhales, and you begin packing your gear instantly. There's no need to look to confirm your kill.

"—inside is clear—"

"—building empty, return to headquarters—"

The silence is deafening. The subtle ringing in your ear punctuates as such. A sudden crackle through your earpiece startles you as you descend the 38 flights of stairs to the street.

"You could've aimed a little more to the right. I got rat blood on me."

You shake your head. "Be grateful you're alive."

Chuuya scoffs, and you imagine him rolling his eyes. "He was an easy target; I would've easily taken him out."

"Just meet me downstairs, please," you sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. The stairwell is humid, and you're starting to sweat under all the leather you sport.

"Yes, ma'am."

You twist the device from your ear and shove it in your pocket.

Emerging from the building, you're hit with a gust of cool night air, the feeling both relieving and chilling. You squint into the darkness. The door behind you slams, and you jump, tripping over your foot and falling to the ground. You put your hand out to stop yourself and brace for the impact.

Except you don't make it to the dirt and are, instead, held mid-air by a familiar force. You roll your eyes when the commander of said force appears before you in the shape of a five-foot-something redhead.

"Careful, doll, don't need you breaking your trigger finger."

You give Chuuya a deadpan look, still surrounded by a red aura. He stalks toward you, the hem of his coat flapping in the wind. You look at him through your lashes and wish he'd let you fall—he gazes at you so intently that if he weren't Chuuya, you'd have punched him by now.

You feel yourself move upwards and stumble once you're on your feet again. Chuuya walks ahead, but his hand hovers behind him slightly.

"Well..." you say, grasping his fingers. You walk toward the PM car, which is parked in the distance.

Chuuya gives you a side look. "Well, what?"

"Well," you say. "Make yourself useful and kiss me."

Chuuya's eyebrows fly up and he stops. "Useful? I just saved your ass from—"

You drop your bag and cover his cheek, smiling as your lips meet his. It's messy, and you swear you felt his teeth nip your bottom lip by accident, but it's nice. Chuuya's fingers tickle the sides of your neck, and he mumbles something incoherent.

You pull back an inch and peck his lips once more when he chases after you. "What?"

Chuuya sighs and leans his forehead against your shoulder, his hands moving to your waist. "Thanks for getting me outta there."

You laugh softly, burying your hands in his hair, moving his hat onto your head so it doesn't fall on the ground. He doesn't thank people often; he doesn't need to with his hatred of initially putting himself in that position and his constant obligation to save everyone.

You don't need his thanks; you never have, but you just kiss his cheek and reassure him. "Always."

Chuuya turns his head, and you feel him press delicate kisses on your neck. He trails his lips to your earlobe before laughing lowly in your ear, squeezing your sides.

You put your hands on his cheeks and pull him out of your neck. His face is squished between your palms, and you stop yourself from kissing him silly. Chuuya wraps his hands around your wrists, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your pulse points. His blue eyes stare into yours, and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to settle.

“You can stop staring now,” Chuuya mumbles, his cheeks blooming red. He'd blame it on the breeze if you tease him about it.

You shake your head, smiling bashfully. “No, you look pretty."

"Oh, please," Chuuya scoffs, eyes sweeping the building behind you. The subordinates deemed the perimeter clear before, but Chuuya scowls at the place anyway. "Let's go."

Sighing, you pluck his hat off your head and put it back on his. "Lead the way, pretty boy."

Chuuya begrudgingly fixes his hat and swings your bag onto his shoulder. "Only if you stop calling me that."

You tsk, wrapping your arms around his middle. "Can't deny what's true."

Grumbling, Chuuya throws his arm over your shoulder and draws you into his side. "Whatever."

[kuroko-no-cuties]

GOM + Kagami Headcanons: Nicknames for you 💝

AKASHI ✂️

Elegant nicknames. Will call you things like

My love, darling, beloved, empress, my queen,, cherry blossom.

Man makes sure you feel as if you’re being treated like royalty because you are nothing less in his eyes.

“Good afternoon, my empress. How has your day been? My my, what’s with the red face? Don’t tell me your nicknames still get you flustered after all the times we’ve been together. Well I suppose I’ll just have to use them more often so you can get use to it..”

MIDORIMA 🍀

Can definitely see him going for more traditional nicknames

Dear, love, darling, sweetheart, my pet, when he’s feeling especially dominant help

Uses them rather sparingly because he knows how much you like them and he loves to tease you freaking tsundere and he also got flustered the first few times he said them to you bless him.

Takao once overheard him calling you darling while all three of you were out together. Midorima didn’t hear the end of it for a week. Every once in a while Takao will bring it up to see Midorima blush. It’s totally worth the bombastic side eye and occasional head smack he gets afterwards

“Going to spend the afternoon with your Darling, Shin-chan~ 😘”

“Shut your mouth, Takao!”

AOMINE 🧢

Ofc he gives you very flirty and sexy nicknames.

Babe, hottie, baby girl, sexy, kitty, mama, cutie, babydoll ok I’ll stop😮‍💨

Will call you them often either in public or in private he doesn’t care. But he’ll live for how flustered you get when he uses them especially if he uses them in front of his teammates.

Speaking of which he’ll make sure to lay it on thick if he sees one of them being a little too friendly with you

“Hey there babydoll~” a deep voice purrs into your ear as you’re in the middle of a conversation with Sakurai. You tilt your head up to see dark blue eyes boring hungrily into you. “I’m getting bored so, why don’t you meet me up on the roof so I can finally get some excitement?…” his suggestive tone immediately sends a fiery blush along your cheeks. You begin to quickly dismiss yourself from the brown headed boy in front of you only to find that you have no need.

Aomine wasn’t even trying to be subtle when he spoke with you, and the apologetic mushroom had already sped off while stammering a muddled apology for taking up too much of your time.

MURASAKIBARA 🍇

Doesn’t really bother too much with cutesy nicknames, but when he does decide to call you by a cute nickname it’s usually teasing you about your height because ofc.

Yeah unless your literally built like Shaq, he’s most likely gonna tower over you, even if you are taller than the average gal you’re still a squirt to him

His nicknames will include the following: chibi-chin, tiny, shortie, peanut, munchkin, little girl, baby-chin

“Mmm~ chibi-chin, give me some of your chips~” “No way you just ate a whole family bag you glutton!”“Hah? Peanut’s being greedy. How rude…~”

KUROKO🩵

Rarely ever uses nicknames. Even when you two become a couple he’ll still address you by your last name with the specific honorific.

You literally have to beg him to finally address you by your first name

But when he is a feeling a little flirty, he’ll address you by: a shorten version of your first name, dear, honey, and maybe if you really get his gears going: vanilla

He’s a sweet simple boy in everything he does.

“Here’s your milkshake Tetsu”~ you chirp happily as you slide beside him in the Maji Burger booth. “Thank you, Vanilla”

“Of course it’s vanilla, silly. I know you’re not fond of the other flavors.” You smile as you nudge him gently with your shoulder.

“Oh well, thank you, but I was calling you vanilla, Vanilla.”

“Oh… I see ☺️ Well your welcome, my fuzzy blueberry.” You gush as you ruffle his heart causing your Blueberry’s face to adopt the hue of a strawberry.

KISE✨

Every nickname in existence and then some

honey, baby, babe, sweetie, sweetheart, snookums, muffin, honey bunny, doll face, Snoopy, cutie

He’ll also make up some of the most ridiculous ones you’ve ever heard

shmoopy, cutie patootie, boo boo keys, shtunky, star eyes, shmooshy, peewee, foofoo , momo, kitten whiskers- you get the idea

A lot of times to two of you just battle to see who can come up with the stupidest nickname and make the other one laugh first

“How are you today, cutie?” “I’m fabulous, legally blonde bombshell!”

“Love that for you, kitten whiskers!” “Thank you very much, smoopy poo!”

“Would you like to walk to the convenience store with me, boo boo keys?” “Of course shmooshy-“

KASAMATSU: “WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP ALREADY?!”

KAGAMI❤️‍🔥

similar to aomine with the hot nicknames

mainly uses babe, baby, doll/dollface Rarely uses your actually name - 9/10 if he wants your attention he’ll uses either babe and baby

but occasionally you’ll get momma, hot stuff, cutie, missy, or little girl out of him - mainly when he’s trying to fluster you 🫣

The two of you were spending the afternoon at the basketball court. Kagami using this time to practice, while you chose to sit on the bench and observe your hot boyfriend work up a sweat.

While gawking at Kagami was certainly an enjoyably pass time, you decide this was also a good time to break out the new over ear headphones you had purchased that morning. Choosing your current favorite tune from your library, you get lost in your world of music.

Meanwhile Kagami had decided to call it a day after sinking one last free throw. He quickly went through his mental checklist and proudly found that he was able to go over all the things Riko told him to focus on.

His thoughts were soon halted when his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that the two of you still hadn’t decided on what to eat for dinner. He uses the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face as he tilts his head in your direction to ask,

“What’re you in the mood to eat, babe?” After a few moments of silence, he raises an eyebrow and walks closer to you

“Babe?” He questions again. After closing a bit of the distance between the two of you, he sees why you’re leaving him on unanswered. You’re too busy dancing in your seat - eyes shut, head bopping - completely oblivious to the world. A short laugh leaves him as he makes the executive decision to have some fun with you while you are distracted. He quickly makes his way behind you and gently lifts your earphones off your head.

“Having a fun concert by yourself, doll?” He bites back a snort as you jump violently, almost it falling off your seat, as you whirl around to face him.

“Oh…ha..s-sorry..” you stutter, getting shy at your boyfriend’s intense gaze boring into you. Kagami chuckles and, now feeling cocky at the reaction he got from you, leans in closer to press a passionate kiss against your lips.

“You’re adorable mama…” he mutters against your mouth - the nickname sending a delicious shiver to trek through your spine. You can’t help but melt into the red-head’s passionate kiss.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short when another loud growl emanated from his belly. He pulls back with an embarrassed groan as you giggle at the light blush that spreads across his cheeks. “Alright, fine.” he relents as he give a harsh pat to his toned abdomen.

“To be continued. Let’s go eat babe. I’m freaking starving,” he leans forward gives a short kiss to your lips, pulling back with the similar playful glint from earlier sparking in his fiery red eyes.

“And I can’t wait to have you for dessert”.

Bro I went so try hard on Kagami’s part idk what came over me 🫣kinda proofread kinda not I just wanted to get this posted

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 9] Gender Reveal

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji does everything in his power to win you back, and lately it seems that he can only do that with things that are baby related. Your second ultrasound comes up, and it’s when you finally find out the sex of your baby. It’s fair to say that you’re over the moon with this, and Toji wouldn’t say it but he’s already really excited about this. 

He’s becoming a father again, and even though he said he never wanted another baby, he’s just thinking about another chunky baby who he can be overly affectionate with, with no judgment. Maybe Toji isn’t all that affectionate, but he did love kissing Megumi’s chubby little cheeks while nobody was looking. It was just the best feeling in the world for him. One of the perks of being a father.

Toji suggested you do a small gender reveal party since he looked up online ways to surprise your pregnant wife, and that popped up. He asked Shiu for some help with setting it up, and that’s what he’s doing tomorrow. Toji is doing everything in his power to get on your good side. He’ll do just about anything to win you back, even if it’s just a stupid little party that he wouldn’t throw if you were on good terms.

“Megumi! Come here!” Toji yells from the couch. He has his reading glasses on, blue yarn on his lap while he waits for his son to get to the living room. He’s about to yell Megumi’s name again because the teenager is taking too long, but he finally comes out. He furrows his brows in confusion as he looks at his dad. “Put a knitting video on the Youtube. I want to do something.”

“What are you trying to do, old man?” Megumi asks, grabbing the remote of the smart TV and begins to type what his father wants him to put on.

“I’m your dad, don’t call me old man.” Toji scoffs, and that’s not a good enough argument for Megumi so he will keep calling Toji an old man. “I’m trying to knit a blanket for your baby brother.”

“You’re trying to… What?” Megumi is even more confused than before. Since when does Toji do this– Toji isn’t sentimental nor fluffy enough to do this. Megumi knows his dad better than anyone, and he’s sure that he has to call an exorcist because his father has been possessed by a… Cutesy demon. 

“What?! I’m trying to be a good dad and this is how you treat me! For your information, I helped your mother out with your baby blanket and I want to do the same for my second son!” Toji raises his voice, and that’s the father that Megumi knows. Megumi immediately knows that his father only watched over as his mother made his blanket, but it’s nice to see his father trying since when he shared the news of your pregnancy, Toji didn’t look all that excited. 

“Son? I thought we had the gender reveal party tomorrow.” Megumi asks, and Toji lets out a chuckle. 

“I know I’m having a son, I know better than anyone my seed-” Toji begins and when Megumi gets an idea of what his father is about to say, Megumi covers his ears.

“Oh that’s so gross! I’m leaving.” Megumi puts on the video that his father requested before throwing the remote on the couch and leaving. Toji lowers his glasses to focus on the TV. Why the hell is he fucking doing this again? This looks like he’s going to be hell.

It’s for his son, right… And to make you happy, and show you that he cares.

You felt odd when Toji suggested you do a gender reveal for your baby, but regardless you agreed. It’s nice to see him care about what’s going on, and see that he’s finally let go of the idea of using the baby as a means to get back together and he genuinely cares about the baby now. Toji genuinely seems… excited, if that’s the right word for it.

The small gathering is at Toji’s apartment, and it’s no more than five people. Excluding you, Toji and Megumi, of course. Shiu is in charge of the reveal, so of course he’s invited, and along are some friends that both you and Toji have. 

You’re not all that excited about the gathering, although you can say that you’re happy with the idea that he came up with. It’s thoughtful, you think. Especially from him. You try not to think that he has any ill intent behind his actions. Your Toji wouldn’t. But then again, maybe you don’t know Toji as much as you think you do.

You wear a cute pink dress that accentuates your growing bump. It’s definitely more noticeable now since you’re five months along. At first you felt a bit insecure about it, but you’ve grown to love it. You take every chance to show it off. You grow more and more impatient with each passing day.

You hope that any and all questions are about your pregnancy, and not about the fact that you and Toji aren’t together anymore. A lot of questions have come up, but you manage to dismiss them every time since you’re just talking through the phone. You’re not sure how you’ll handle it in person though, you just know that you’re not really in the mood to talk much about… Anything that’s not baby related.

“Hi, Megumi.” You smile at the teenager that opens the door for you, allowing you inside Toji’s apartment. You notice his pink shirt, one that matches the color of your dress.

Maybe you read the time wrong because when you enter, everyone that was invited is inside. It feels as if the spotlight is on you as you walk in, and it feels nothing short than awkward. They’re all your friends, and they want to approach you, but before they can, Toji walks over to you. Toji hugs you before caressing your bump, and kissing your cheek, which maybe you should call him out on but you don’t want to really say it in front of everyone, and maybe you don’t mind it as much as you should. 

You notice his blue shirt and you smile at him, slightly tilting your head to the side before asking, “You still think it’s a boy?”

“I know it’s a boy.” Toji says, causing you to chuckle. Toji doesn’t want to let go of you, but you feel all eyes on you, plus you have to greet your friends. You’re sort of the star of the show.

“Give her some space. She doesn’t want you all over her right now.” Shiu stops Toji from following you around. Toji frowns, but decides to listen to his friend. Instead, they begin to set out the cake that Shiu got, making sure everything is ready for the big reveal.

Toji keeps his eye on you, cringing at everyone that puts their hand on your bump. You seem to be fine with it, so he shouldn’t really care but he still does. After maybe ten minutes, he clears his throat and suggests, “Should we do the reveal?”

“I haven’t even gotten to eat anything yet.” You respond. You’re dying to know the sex of the baby though, so you stand up to walk to the table where the cake is. You want a girl, but you wouldn’t mind having a baby boy either– Toji swears that it’s a boy though, he has sworn it since your last ultrasound.

“You can eat something after. Let’s get the main event going.” Toji sounds impatient, maybe because he’s tired of you talking to other people that aren’t him. He thinks that after the reveal you’ll be by his side, not thinking that everyone will want to talk to you even more.

“You also think it’s a boy, Shiu?” You ask the man who wears a blue shirt, similar to Toji’s, as you grab the knife to cut the cake. You’re convinced it’s a boy at that moment because Shiu knows the gender of the baby. He ends up shrugging.

“Ignore his ugly ass, let’s get this going. Come here if you want to see!” Toji yells, growing even more impatient. He just wants to confirm that it’s a boy and kick everyone out– Except you, he wants you all to himself. 

“We’re not in a rush, Toji.” You tell him as you take a finger to taste some of the frosting on the cake. You make sure everyone is gathered around, before telling Toji to grab on to the knife as well so you can cut through it together. You cut through the cake, and Toji gets the biggest smile on his face when he sees the blue icing inside the cake. He makes sure everyone sees it, and he has to announce,

“It’s a boy! What did I say?!” Toji makes sure everyone hears that he was, in fact, right. Toji then engulfs you in a hug, kissing your forehead and all over your face again and again. You smile, hugging Toji back. All eyes are on you, and you know they’re confused as to why he’s so affectionate with you, and you’re wondering the same thing. But you understand he’s happy about his baby boy, and so are you.

“Um…” Shiu clears his throat, and Toji rolls his eyes. Why does Shiu want to ruin this sweet moment? Toji doesn’t pull away from the hug, glaring at Shiu. Shiu bites down his bottom lip before saying, “They got the color wrong. You two are having a baby girl.”

“Huh?” Both you and Toji respond in unison, but there’s a huge smile on your face while Toji is just… Confused. You were happy with a boy, of course, but you really wanted a baby girl.

“You’re messing with me, right?” Toji asks, refusing to let go of you. You’re expecting for a frown or a look of disappointment to spread across his face, but it doesn’t. He looks confused… Worried.

“No, man. You’re having a girl.” Shiu confirms, and you feel awkward. You poke Toji’s cheek and he looks down at you. You smile at him before telling him,

“Cheer up. I know you don’t like to be wrong–” You begin but Toji interrupts you. He kisses your forehead.

“I’m happy.” He reassures you, and it sounds sincere. He’ll just need some time to get adjusted to the idea of having a baby girl.

You end up serving the cake, giving a slice to everyone before getting your own and taking a seat beside a friend. Toji doesn’t really care to eat a slice of the cake, what he cares for is pulling Shiu off to the side. Shiu tries to eat his slice, and Toji almost slaps Shiu’s hand. Shiu clears his throat before asking, “What?”

“Really? What? You had one job and you fucked it up. Now I look like a fucking asshole that’s more excited about having a boy than a girl.” Toji begins, and Shiu shrugs. It wasn’t his fault, maybe Toji should’ve reacted differently. “Are you trying to ruin my chances of getting back with my wife or what? I swear, I’ll kill you.”

“It was an honest mistake, Toji. Stop overreacting.” Shiu says before walking away, making Toji let out the biggest sigh. He looks over at Megumi, who seems to be happy with the fact that he’s having a baby sister, he should be at the very least since he’s wearing a pink shirt.

Toji takes a deep breath before walking over to you, taking a seat beside you, joining you and your friend. She doesn’t mean to pry but she can’t help but ask, “Are you two–”

“None of your business.” Toji cuts her off before she can even get the question out, which you’re thankful for. The answer is no, you’re not getting back together but you don’t want to talk about it. You also don’t want to talk about how overly affectionate your ex-husband is with you, and how you don’t call him out on it because you like it.

“So… How do you two feel about having a girl?” Your friend asks, and you smile, putting your hand on your bump.

“Excited. I wish for a healthy baby above all but I really want a girl.” You answer. “How about you, Toji?”

“I’m excited as well.” Toji doesn’t really sound excited though. He’s more worried, he doesn’t know how to raise a girl– But right now he keeps thinking of the baby blanket that he needs to start over. Thankfully, he didn’t get too far with it.