#Puss x reader

[granddaughter-of-shaokahn]

PIB Nicknames (English)

Puss in boots

The nicknames he gives you: Cat, My love, princess, baby, my lover, my life

Nicknames you give him: Kitty, My Favorite Hero, Pickles, Outlaw, Ginger, Puss-y

Death

The nicknames he gives you: My wife, my goddess, my life, little red riding hood, angel, my love

Nicknames you give him: Wolf, puppy, wolfie, cute, husband, guardian dog, big bad wolf

Kitty Softpaws

The nicknames she gives you: Y/n, Honey, cuteness, Doll, treasure, Idiot (affectionately)

Nicknames you give her: Thief of my heart, Fluff, darling

Goldilocks

What it gives you: Beast, Lover, Fool, Perfection, Y/n

What you give him: Blonde, Goldie, Cute, bear girl

[humanfleshbutcher]

hi!! first off, i would like to say i love your writing! it is just so descriptive and eloquent 😍💖 i was graced when i found your account because i am suffering from a severe lack of puss in boots content </3

anyway- enough of my rambling. i was wondering if i could request a romantic/platonic puss fanfic :3 i was in the snow a few days ago with my friends, and we got to the point where we started to talk about how our cats would react if they were brought in the snow. so i thought it would be pretty cute to see the puss and the reader seeing snow for the first time!

there's no rush- i no writing can be hard and energy-consuming sometimes. have a great day!!

aww thanks!! I have kind had a writers block but now with more requests coming in, IM BACK :D Also same, the reason I started writing Puss in boots cuz I just couldn't find any stories about him lol 😭

Puss in boots x reader 'Snow days'

Summary: You and Puss are seeing snow for the first time, thoughts?

TW: None

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For this adventure, you and team friendship had to go to a different land. Kitty has been there, and she says there might be snow there.

You and Puss have NEVER seen snow, might be because you're living in a country in which snow is quite rare, or you've just never been around long enough to see it fall.

But for this one, you're gonna feast your eyes on the white which will coat the ground.

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"Y/N, wake up!" A violent shake stirred you from your sleep, startling you up.

"What?!" You shook your head as you looked at Perrito, who was wagging his tail in excitement.

"Come outside!"

You watched the small dog run out of the tent, leaving you alone. Curiosity killed the cat (pun intended) and you decided to not keep your friend waiting and stepped outside.

White, everywhere.

Like a white powder covering the face of the earth. You've never seen this before. It was fascinating.

It was snow.

"Y/N!" You heard your name being called. It was Puss, his fur littered in the white snow. He looked super excited, which rose your excitement and adrenaline.

"Puss!" You responded, stepping onto the snow. It was a little weird, but this was pretty much the way you imagined snow.

You both admired the snow, it was a new sight for both of you. You were both a little confused, but y'all got the spirit. You both watched as Perrito played around in the snow, jumping in and out of the cold heaps.

"Ow!" Puss exclaimed, you looked at him, looking back and seeing Kitty who was holding a snowball in her hand.

"Now that you finally seen snow, how about I teach you some games?" Kitty suggested, throwing the snowball up into the air and catching it.

You puss shared a look, but it was interrupted when a snowball hit Puss again.

"OHMYGOSH SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Perrito shrieked, instantly making a snow boulder, you also made a defence wall and started preparing your snowballs.

The fight was tragic, you had to face your own team, but even then your determination didn't falter. You took down Perrito first (sorry bud) and then made an alliance with Puss to take down Kitty.

The alliance proved true, as you both defeated Kitty. But now, it was just the two of you. A war can only be won, by one. It was a battle against you two now.

It wasn't long until there was a clear winner.

The winner being You.

You celebrated your victory and rubbed it in their faces.

But soon the sun started setting, and seeing as you were all now drenched in melted snow, you all decided it was best to leave the cold activities behind and make a campfire.

You loved the snow. You wish you'd seen it more before, but for now it's not time to worry about what you didn't see before, but it's time to look to the present, and look upon many more victories in the snow.

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FINALLY IM DONE AAAAA

[sematarygirls]

   EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs

NOTES .ᐟ guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah

After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyone—the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.

Being a single mom was not easy, and it definitely hadn't been a part of your life plan, but then, you met Rafe Cameron—the ever charming, sweet talking man that he was. He swept you up and made you feel like the only girl in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as you were by his side, so when you found out you were pregnant, you were over the moon at the idea of starting a family with him.

But Rafe Cameron was a liar. He was selfish and manipulative, and he turned your life right on it's head.

You could still remember the day the police kicked in the door of your apartment, bursting in with guns drawn, pointed directly at you. You were eight months pregnant and having a gun pointed at you—at your baby—made you physically ill.

They had raided the apartment and found copious amounts of drugs. Your heart dropped, and you immediately felt like an idiot. How had you not known? You knew he made more money than he realistically should have, but the thought never even crossed your mind that this could be the reason. You were heartbroken and angry. Angry that he had lied. Angry that he put you in this position. And, angry that he was leaving you.

Rafe was arrested, and eventually charged with possession with intent to distribute due to the amount of drugs they found, which resulted in a five year sentence. You were sad and angry, not only because you were losing the man you always thought was the love of your life, but also because now, you were alone, and your daughter wouldn't know her father for the first five years of her life.

This anger and resentment festered, mixing with longing and a deep, aching sadness. You couldn't bring yourself to answer his calls or letters, let alone visit him. You didn't know who he was anymore. The man that you saw sporting handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit at his trial was not the same man you fell in love with, and you wouldn't pretend like he was.

You had known Rafe's release date was approaching, but you were under the impression that you still had a little over a year to plan on what you were going to do when it finally came. That's why you were so unsuspecting when you went to answer the harsh knock at your door.

It was a Thursday night, and you were cuddled up on the couch with Moonshine, who was practically the size of you. A horror movie was playing on the TV before you, one you'd seen practically a million times, and every few minutes, your gaze would flicker to the baby monitor on the coffee table that displayed the feedback from a camera in your daughter, Rhiannon's, room.

You jumped a little at the harsh sound of a knock on your front door, the horror movie already having you on edge. You could be paranoid sometimes, especially being a single mom, so realistically, you knew you shouldn't have been watching it so late at night, but they were your guilty pleasures that you couldn't indulge in the light of day because of your toddler.

Moonshine immediately jumped up, a low growl escaping his throat as his hair stood on end. Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior, pausing the movie and unfurling yourself from your comfortable position. Your steps were soft on the hardwood, your socks cushioning the sound as you padded over to the front door, patting the dog's head comfortingly as you unlocked the door, completely unaware with what would greet you on the other side.

As you opened the door, the cool night air hit you, carrying with it the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You blinked in surprise, expecting to see a neighbor, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widened, the air knocked from your lungs as you took him in. He was changed, broader and more imposing, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt as he crossed his arms. His hair was buzzed, his chiseled jawline sporting stubble that made him look older, more mature.

He looked so different, but still, somehow, the same. You were hit by a wave of emotions—longing, love, sadness, but most presently, anger. Who did he think he was showing up unannounced in the middle of the night after all these years, especially looking so unapologetic and devastatingly handsome.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, captivating and dangerous like a wave pulling you under when you least expected it. "Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue. The term of endearment fell from his lips without any semblance of warmth as he stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink in on yourself.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your jaw clenching and grip on the door's edge tightening. You shivered a little as the cold air bit at your bare skin, barely registering the low growls of Moonshine behind you due to your tunnel vision on the man standing before you.

He smirked confidently, knowing the effect he had on you—the effect he always had on you. His eyebrow arched as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your bare thighs, courtesy of your pajama shorts. "Aren't you going to invite me in, sweetheart? It's been a long time." He took a step forward, his broad frame filling the doorway intimidatingly.

You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step back and let him intimidate you into getting what he wanted. You craned your neck to look up at him, his close proximity looming over you, making him seem even taller and more imposing than he already was. "And whose fault is that?" You managed to say, despite the pit in your stomach—a mix of dread, anxiety, and strangely, desire.

Rafe's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously. He uncrossed his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe beside your head, leaning in closer. It made your breath catch in your throat, but you held firm. You couldn't let him see that he was getting to you. "Let me in," he clenched his jaw. His anger at you for abandoning him in there had been bubbling up, and your defiance was bringing it to the surface.

A light flickering on in the house across the street caught your eye. Old lady Flanigan had a habit of making everyone else's business, her business, and she was a nasty gossip. Unless you wanted people talking, you either had to let him in or get him to leave, and one of those would be a nearly impossible feat. "Rafe, you can't be here. You can't just barge back into my life after all this time," you told him firmly, your own eyes blazing with a fiery intensity.

"And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His body was practically vibrating with pent-up anger, his muscles taut as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Did you ever think about me? Did you ever think about what you did to us?"

"What I did?" You scoffed, anger bubbling up inside you at his accusation, blaming you as if he wasn't the one that went to prison and left you alone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The old woman across the street was now shamelessly watching through her window, and you knew you had no choice but to let him in before her nosey ass called the cops on the strange, clearly out of place man lurking in the neighborhood.

He followed your eyes, looking over his shoulder to the nosy neighbor, his expression darkening. Without another word, he pushed past you, entering the house and forcing you to step back.

Your jaw clenched at his blatant disregard or respect for your wishes as you gently closed the door behind you. Moonshine barked, baring his teeth at the intruder, clearly sensing the tension and jumping into action to protect his family. "Moonshine, stop," you told him firmly. You were proud of him, but you didn't want his barking to wake Rhiannon. The last thing you could deal with right now was Rafe and a crying toddler. You could only focus on one temper tantrum at a time.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he watched you control your dog, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His gaze then swept the interior of your home, taking in every detail as if memorizing it. "Nice place," he commented flatly, turning back to face you. "Where's my kid?"

You took a deep breath, your gaze hard at him calling your daughter his kid, like he had any right. He didn't even know her name or that she was a girl. "She's asleep," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.

His piercing eyes bore into yours, unyielding. "Her name." he demanded gruffly.

"Rhiannon," you informed him hesitantly, your gaze darting to the monitor on the coffee table, making sure she was still asleep.

His expression flickered briefly, a flash of something softer, almost vulnerable, in his eyes before it was quickly concealed. He nodded once. "I want to see her." It wasn't a request. His posture remained tense and coiled, ready to react to your response.

You huffed, running a hand through your hair and heading to the kitchen with him hot on your heels. Maybe you wanted to busy yourself. Maybe you wanted an excuse not to have to look at him. Maybe you just wanted to walk away from him, to assert some kind of power. Either way, your next words were spoken with your back to him. "I told you. She's asleep. It's the middle of the fucking night, Rafe, what did you expect?"

He followed you into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming in the small space. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. "I don't give a fuck what time it is," he growled, his voice low and intense. "I've missed four years of her life already."

You rounded the kitchen island, planting your hands on it as you turned to face him, feeling more comfortable with the counter between you. Not because you were scared of him but because, despite yourself and despite your anger, you longed to touch him and have him touch you. "And whose fucking fault is that, huh?" You asked angrily, echoing your earlier words that he had ignored.

Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together, trying to rein in his anger. "Yours," he bit out. "You left me in there," he accused.

"You left me out here!" Your voice raised slightly before you caught yourself, letting out a hard breath. The only way you could keep yourself from getting sad, from crying over the loss of the only man you'd ever truly loved, was getting angry at him.

"You think I wanted to go to prison?" He hissed, rounding the island and backing you against the counter. "You think I had a fucking choice?"

"You did have a choice," you said sharply, bracing your hands on the counter behind you as you stared up at him. "You chose to deal drugs, and you chose to keep dealing even after you found out I was pregnant. Prison was just the consequence of all your shitty choices."

His hand came up, slamming on the cabinet beside your head, the sound making you jump slightly. "And what about you?" He seethed, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, angry bursts. "What about your choices, huh? You could've waited for me."

"I did what I had to do," you said, glaring at him. You weren't quite sure what else to say. You had to protect yourself, your own feelings, and your child. You couldn't have stayed in touch, sick with worry every night while you soothed a colicky baby all by yourself. You had to forget him; it was better that way, easier.

"What you had to do," he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm and the faintest hint of hurt. "You moved on pretty quick, didn't you? Found some new dick to warm your bed, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you spat, the words stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You hadn't been able to bring yourself to even look at another man since he went away. You told yourself it was just because of Rhiannon, that you were focusing on raising her and being the best mother you could be, but deep down, you knew it was because your heart would always belong to Rafe.

"Is that it?" he repeated, his face inches from yours. His voice was low, his eyes searching yours for something. "You found some other man to replace me?"

"Maybe I have," you said stubbornly. You knew you were being petty, wanting him to hurt like you hurt, but you also knew you were a shit liar, so there was no way in hell he would actually believe you. "Maybe I have moved on."

His other hand shot out, gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to look at him. "Bullshit," he growled, looking down at you, his blue eyes darkened. "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't moved on to shit."

You stared up at him defiantly, your chest heaving with anger, which only intensified when you felt the wetness between your thighs. Even after all this time, all it took was a look and a simple touch to get you so wet, and as much as you hated it, you couldn't deny that something about his post-prison appearance—how rugged and large he was—made your knees week.

His hand tightened on your chin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. It was clear he was angry, punishing you for the words you'd spoken, and you knew you should've pushed him away—yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of your house—but you didn't.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him with an intensity that matched the war going on within you—the jumbled mess of love and hate that he had brought up within you.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your face roughly as he devoured your mouth. He pushed you further back against the counter that was now digging into your lower back, his body pinning you in place. You could feel his anger, his frustration, his desperation, and it only fueled your own emotions.

The kiss was raw and charged with a passionate mix of need, longing, and pure, unbridled anger, both of you trying to show the other that this wasn't a surrender of power or giving into the other and accepting blame. The kiss itself was an argument, a fight all of its own that didn't require words.

He hands went to your hips, lifting you onto the counter and stepping between your parted legs. Tearing his mouth from yours, he began kissing along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His lips were hot and insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin as he continued to mark you.

You panted, your chest heaving for an entirely different reason now as you let out soft gasps and breathy sounds of approval, your head falling back against the cabinet behind your head. You had forgotten how good he was with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to drive you wild.

He took advantage of the exposed column of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You let out a low moan, your nails raking against his buzzed scalp. As sexy as he looked with a buzzcut, you wished you could run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly everytime he touched you just right.

"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, his voice a low vibration that seemed to go straight to your core. He kissed his way back up to your mouth, his hips pushing forward to press his hardness against your core. "Did you forget how good I am, baby?"

You internally rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, like he had won. "God, do you ever shut up?" You asked, sounding less annoyed and effective since you were still breathless from his kisses.

His hips thrust forward again, making an involuntary whine fall from your lips at the feeling. "Not when I'm right." He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His smirk was as frustratingly handsome as it had always been, and it made you want to smack him and kiss him all at once. "And I am."

"Don't be a dickhead," you glared at him, his arrogance and your own unyielding need for him only heightening your frustration. You were desperate and aching for him, but you refused to give in and beg him like you wanted to.

"Then quit acting like you're not soaking wet for me." His grip on your thighs tightened, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. "I bet if I slipped my hand into your shorts, I'd find you drenched and ready for me, wouldn't I?"

His smug tone infuriated you and turned you on all at once. "Shut up, Rafe," you demanded, balling your fist into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, so you could press your lips to his, forcing him to shut up and quit pissing you off.

Your grip on his shirt loosened, hand sliding down his hard, muscular chest to his waistband. You had always seen the trope of guys working out their frustrations in prison movies, but you didn't know that was actually a thing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, sliding it along yours in a way that had you moaning against his lips

He groaned low in his throat as you finally worked the belt buckle open, sliding the leather through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a clank. His hands immediately slid up your thighs, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs—with the help of you awkwardly shifting to lift your ass enough to do so.

He discarded the garments to the floor with his belt, his palms running along your bare thighs as he parted your legs wider, opening you to him. His calloused fingertips brushed against your center, feeling your slick folds, making you gasp into his mouth. "Told you," he grinned against your lips, finding it in himself to be a complete dick, even when he was about to be inside you.

"Asshole," you mumbled, fingers deftly popping open the button of his jeans and unzipping them. You hooked your fingers in his waistband, shoving his pants and underwear down as he had done to you.

He kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, stepping between your thighs again. His hard cock was flushed, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped himself at the base, rubbing the head through your slick folds teasingly. "What was that, baby?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Just put your dick inside me before I kill you," you threatened him, though you both knew you wouldn't do anything, not really.

He chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You want it so bad, don't you?" He teased, his tip nudging against your entrance but not pushing inside. "Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how much you need my cock." He didn't need to be angry when he could punish you like this. He knew begging was the last thing you wanted to do, but he also knew that you'd do it.

"Don't piss me off right now, Rafe," you gritted your teeth, the feeling of him against your entrance making you dizzy with desire.

"Or what, baby? You'll what?" He pressed against you again, the tip of his cock pushing inside just slightly before pulling back out. "Tell me what you'll do if I don't give you what you want." He was pushing your buttons, knowing exactly how to make you snap.

You practically whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out. "Fuck- fine, please, Rafe," you panted, furious with yourself and him that you were giving into him. "Please just fuck me already."

The confident, victorious smirk that instantly appeared on his face had you wanting to slap him. "Now was that so hard?" He condescend. Your annoyed retort died in your throat as he finally pushed into you, making you moan, your head falling back against the cupboard at the feeling of him inside you after so long.

He groaned as your tight heat enveloped him, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise as he started to move. His body tensed, using every ounce of his self control not to cum on the spot. Four years of fucking himself in his hand was nothing compared to the way you were squeezing him right now.

One hand moved up to your mouth, muffling your growing moans and whines. "Shh," he cooed. You were thankful for it. You knew you had to be quiet, but the way he was pounding into you made it nearly impossible.

"Did you miss me, baby?" He leaned down, breathing hotly against your neck as he nipped at your throat. "Did you lay awake at night thinking about me stretching you like this?" He flexed his hips, driving deep inside you.

You nodded, letting out a muffled "mhm" against his palm as your back arched into him. He felt so good, better than you'd remembered, and you hadn't had sex in four years, so you were so worked up.

"Good," he purred, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Because I missed you too, baby. Missed this tight little cunt wrapped around my dick." The hand on your thigh dipped down between your legs, his calloused thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

You gasped against his palm, your eyes rolling back at the mix of sensations. You were already so pathetically close, feeling that familiar aching deep within you.

He could feel your weepy cunt starting to flutter around him, and he was more than glad that you were so close so quickly because he didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "Gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, baby. Gonna get you pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna miss a damn thing"

His words turned you on more than they should have, snapping that coil inside you and sending you over the edge. You tensed around his dick, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you cried out his name.

"Shit, baby," he groaned, burying his face into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin as he pushed himself deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release. His breath was hot against your already heated skin, a thin layer of sweat coating both your bodies as he slowly softened inside you.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, his hand falling from your mouth to brace himself on the counter. You couldn't believe that after all these years of promising yourself you wouldn't let him back into your life, you had so easily opened your legs and even let him cum inside you—because clearly that worked out so well for you last time.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of finally being home where he belonged. He eventually pulled out, his softening dick slipping from your tender cunt.

You had to tell him that he couldn't stay, that it would confuse Rhiannon to wake up to a strange man in the house, but you didn't know how, not after what just happened.

He stepped back, allowing you to get down from the counter. A silence fell over both of you as you got dressed, neither one knowing what happens now. He finished buttoning up his jeans, his eyes flicking up to you as he ran a hand over his buzzed head. "So... what now?" He asked gruffly, breaking the silence.

"You can't- you have to go," you told him, pulling your shorts back up and crossing your arms. It seemed unfair to say such a thing after sharing such an intimate moment, but you needed to think of your daughter. She didn't even know who Rafe was.

"You're kicking me out?" He echoed, as if he couldn't believe it. "After... that?" He gestured vaguely, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, both of you finding yourselves right back where you started. "You cant just... be here. Rhiannon doesn't even know who you are." The words seemed cruel as soon as they left your lips, but they were true. You wished they weren't, but they were.

"I know. Fuck, I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He was frustrated, your words like a slap to the face. "But goddamn it, I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life."

"I'm not saying you can't be, but... she's four, Rafe. She's old enough that you can't just walk in and call yourself her father," you told him firmly. "It's going to take time. I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Time?" He asked incredulously. Deep down, he knew you were right, that you were doing what was best, but he was so angry at himself, and instead of facing that anger and acknowledging that this was his own doing, he was taking it out on you. "I've already missed four fucking years. First steps, first words, first everythings."

"I can't keep going in circles with you, Rafe," you ran your hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. "You do this my way, or you don't do this at all." It hurt you to be so cold. You wanted Rhiannon to know her father, but she was just a kid. She wouldn't understand why her dad just showed up out of the blue, and you didn't know how to explain it to her.

He stared at you, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "Alright. Fine. Your way. But you better not shut me out again. I'm not gonna miss anymore. Understand?"

You nodded, thankful that he was going to stop fighting you on this. "Do you have a-a number or something?" You asked, unsure how long he'd been out, if he got his phone back and was able to pay the bill or if he bought a burner. You didn't even know where he was staying.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's the same as my old one," he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by your previous ultimatum.

"Right, okay," you nodded, your fingers drumming against your upper arm. You two stood in silence for a long moment. Rafe didn't want to leave, and you didn't want to tell him to.

Rafe's gaze fell to the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Can I see her before I go?" He asked softly. "Just... just to see her."

There was a shift in his demeanor, a vulnerability about him that told you he really did care about Rhiannon, even if he'd never met her. "Yeah," you found yourself nodding, turning to lead him to her room. As you entered the living room, you could've sworn Moonshine was giving a disapproving side eye. "Don't judge me," you mumbled.

He followed you down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He paused in the doorway of Rhiannon's room, looking in on her sleeping form. She was curled up on her side in a princess toddler bed, her little arms wrapped around a stuffed cat. Rafe's expression softened as he took her in.

His eyes swept over the room, the nightlight plugged into the wall illuminating the space. The walls were painted a light shade of pink, toys strewn about. A small bookshelf sat tucked in the corner, various children's books inside, some sitting on the floor in front of it.

He stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. He crouched down, his eyes fixed on Rhiannon's sleeping face as he reached out, his large hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "She's so little," he murmured softly, almost reverently.

You leaned on the doorway, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips as you watched the exchange. You found yourself wondering what life would have been like if Rafe never got locked up, your heart aching as you thought about sharing all of Rhiannon's firsts with someone, bickering over whether she would've said mommy or daddy first. The wobbly first steps, the soothing and band-aid applications after she scraped her knees. What would it have been like to share those moments with him?

Rafe's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's beautiful." He turned his head to look at you, and you saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He blinked it away quickly, clearing his throat as he stood, masking his emotions as he always had. "I should go."

You hesitated, for a moment wanting to throw everything you'd said out the window and tell him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You just nodded, letting him push past you. You didn't move from your spot, even after you heard the front door open and shut. You simply closed your eyes, leaning your head against the doorframe as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Heaven's dumpster fire everyone!!

[hencheri]

18+ mdni.

pairing: mean stepbro!chenle x fem!reader

warnings: stepcest, heavy dubcon, very very mean chenle, coercion.

.

chenle is the annoying brother that you could imagine. he loves being mean, takes a lot of satisfaction in it. a lot of pleasure. 

he never misses an opportunity to make fun of you, whether it’s to pinpoint how much better he is at school than you are, or how much of a disappointment you must be to your parents, he always laughs at you. you could argue that he’s just trying to get under your skin — and it works especially well — but chenle does think he’s better than you.

he’s always bickering with you, and maybe you wouldn’t catch any of his attempts to create a fight if your mom and his dad wouldn’t take his side so often. you get so frustrated by it, which you get scolded for even more. 

chenle can be bearable sometimes — only when he wants to, though. he helps you with your assignments when you ask nicely, even though you get called an idiot a bunch of times. he plays video games with you, and he’s pretty enjoyful in those moments, but it’s always ruined by chenle being mean to you one too many times. you end up yelling at him as he laughs at your petty attitude, and you either throw your controller at him or call him an asshole before storming away in your room.

but chenle isn’t all that perfect like your parents think he is. far from it, even.

they don’t know how he really sees his stepsister. they don’t know what type of bonding moments he really shares with you. no, because if they did, they would absolutely disown him, and you as well, but the thought of your parents discovering chenle isn’t the well-behaved and respectful boy he pretends to be makes you really, really happy. 

if they knew what chenle’s intentions really are when bugging you, like stealing your phone and raising it out of your reach above your head, maybe they wouldn’t call him a good boy anymore. maybe they wouldn’t congratulate him for his good grades or for becoming the captain of his college basketball team. 

chenle knows this dirty secret could ruin the clean image he puts out, but sometimes his desires are stronger than him. and so are yours, too. 

“give it to me!” you groan as you desperately pull on chenle’s arm that is perched up in the air with your phone in his hand. “you’re so annoying, i swear!”

his arm doesn’t budge though, and you start to grow tired, but he still has his insufferable triumphic smile drawn on his face. 

“then take it,” he mocks, holding his arm high in the air, his other hand pushing on your shoulder. 

“that’s what- argh!” you stomp your foot on the floor in frustration, backing away from your brother. “i need it, chenle. stop being an ass.”

“okay, you really want it?” he asks as he lowers the phone, pulling it away when he sees your attempt of taking it from his hand immediately when it’s in your reach. “hey. answer my question.”

you roll your eyes, sighing, “yes, of course, chenle!”

you cross your arms over your chest as you look at him, licking his lips and shifting your phone from one hand to another, knowing pertinently he’s being an asshole right now. 

“i have an offer, then,” he smirks. 

you frown because why would you bargain with him to have your phone back? it’s yours! but knowing chenle, he always wants to gain something from any situation. 

“that’s ridiculous,” you scoff, but he’s absolutely serious — despite the smile on his lips. 

“do you want your phone back?” he asks more sternly to which you grumble a ‘yes’. “i’ll let you have it if you accept to be a little nicer to me.”

“what?” you laugh, “nicer to you? as if you deserve it. eat shit.” you head for the door of your bedroom, and chenle pulls you right back to him, not wanting you to go away from him. 

“oh, come on,” he whispers beside your ear, his arm going around your waist, “quit being a bitch and play with me,” he proposes and you feel yourself immediately melting down. how can he be so tempting?

you try to resist anyway, removing his grip from around your body. “chenle,” you scold, “that’s not the moment.”

but he brings you against him once again, putting his face beside yours, his lips touching the shell of your ear. “it’s fine, your mom’s out at work and my dad’s dead asleep upstairs,” he insists, but it’s yet not enough to make you give up. “i’ll fucking shatter your phone against the wall if you keep being a petty whore,” he grits through his teeth and you know that his threat is very real. 

you’re no stranger to chenle’s ruthless way of fucking — pitiless he is, but evil he is even more, and you get to experience it everytime he catches you between his claws. sharp, mean claws that leave your skin bruised. marks that you have to explain to your friends, inventing an imaginary boyfriend who’s filthy in the bedroom. 

“you’re only good for taking cock.” his breath hits the side of your face, his voice harsh like the hands gripping your hips. “you don’t care if it’s your brother’s, as long as it’s in your stupid fucking cunt, right?” he chuckles, pounding you from behind, having the familiar sight of your head buried into your pillows in front of him. 

you only muster out a ‘shut up’ out of your mouth, and as unconvincing as you sound with teary eyes, you truly want him to stop talking so much. 

chenle only looks more pleased. no matter the amount of tears you cry, he knows you like it, and this little fact is enough to make him have the upper hand on you. he always does.

he tugs on your hair, lifting your head from the pillows. “you can tell me to shut up how many times you want, sweetheart, you’ll still cum around my cock like the fucking slut you are,” he states, shoving your face back into the cushions, your tears leaving wet patches on the fabric. 

you cry out when he hits the sensitive spot inside of you, his grip on your hair remaining and making your scalp burn badly. 

“stop whining so loudly, you don’t want my dad to find us like this, do you?” chenle slaps your ass with his palm as a warning and you shake your head the best you can. “good because i’ll have to shut you up myself, and i know how much you hate when i do that, hm?”

there are plenty of things you hate about chenle, but this is surely the one you hate the most, and he knows it because you didn’t talk to him for days after that. and so knowing better than to piss him off, you keep your lips sealed shut.

[teddybeartoji]

heavily based on the puss in boots movie but sukuna x death!reader..

a bounty hunter, who has set their eyes on the infamous sukuna,, known for his bloody blade and his feracious smile, he doesn't even bat an eye when you show him the wanted poster. he makes a joke about it, he laughs in your face.

but he does enjoy the fight and he is amused by this ridiculous act of yours, so he decides to draw his sword just to humor himself on this late night.

"try me if you dare, you wouldn't be the first to— "

like a gust of wind, like a slap in the face – you swat the blade from his hand without even looking at him properly and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

the steel clatters against the cold floor, it glimmers under the dim lights of the tavern. sukuna doesn't get scared. he doesn't.

the corners of your lips quirk up and the room goes cold. a mean laugh ripples from your throat and his stomach churns.

"go on, pick it up."

he swallows the lump in his throat.

the few steps count as a walk of shame inside his head. he won't let you get away with toying with him like this. adrenaline pumps in his veins as he bends to pick up his weapon and the moment his calloused fingers wrap around the handle, he's swinging it at your back with a low growl.

the sound two swords make when they clash against one another is nothing new to sukuna, so it really shouldn't be as big of a surprise when you deflect his blow.

when you deflect it with ease, with a smirk on your face.

sukuna's eye twitches.

a second swing and then a third. you're unfazed.

"sloppy."

he clicks his tongue and forces down the raw anger bubbling up his gullet.

a fourth and a fifth. a sixth. sparks from the blades glimmer in your dark eyes as you blatantly laugh in his face, seemingly so far from his reach that sukuna trips over his own thoughts – he reacts half a second too late and pays the price for it immediately; the cold steel rests against his adam's apple, your breath fanning his face as you tug him closer by the collar of his shirt. stuck between the counter and the end, he glares at you. he snarls, he bares his teeth.

a drop of crimson runs down the side of his neck as you brush your cold nose against his cheek. too close, you're too fucking close. the quiet, honeyed hum you give him gnaws on his insides, it tears into them like a hungry dog. your lips ghost over his pulse point and he feels you smile.

you inhale and a shiver runs up his spine.

"this is always the best part... when the fear finally starts to bleed, when you can taste it. smell it." his free hand curls into the material of your cloak but he's unable to do anything. he can't push and he can't pull, a deer stuck in a trap.

you slot a thigh between his thighs and press your blade deeper into him. "isn't it exciting to be so close to me, hm?"

warm blood trickles over your fingers. the tall man before you shrinks under your presence, under the weight of your makeshift scythe. he holds onto you like his life depends on it and withers at your next words.

"i'll take good care of you, i promise."

[specsthesecond]

❤️‍🔥

His molten tears fall down to your face but they don't burn.

He's wanted to touch you for so long. So many nights he's dreamt of this.

Your body under his, his fiery hands tracing the curves of your soft naked skin. His searing hot lips finally kissing yours, finally tasting you. Your own tears hiss into vapour as they streak down your cheeks, your sweat evaporating off your skin.

He knows he should be more cautious, neither of you actually know how well this fire resistant potion works but he's way too far gone now. He holds you so close as you get used to the strange feeling of his blazing skin touching you. You didn't expect it but under the deceptive wisps of flames covering him was a solid amalgamation of heat and you were touching it, you were touching him.

When he eases inside you, you both cry out your shared euphoria. His hot mouth can't seem to leave your skin, your hands can't leave his body. He bottoms out, hard sweltering cock deep inside you. The feeling is so strange but you have no time to dwell on it, his flame lights a fire inside you (literally and figuratively).

You look into his smoldering eyes, wiping away his tears as he sets a sensual pace. It's like he's trying to touch every part of you, like he'll never get to do it again and you can't help but share the sentiment. Your bodies mold together, so incompatible but it feels so perfect.

His fingers touch all the right spots, he's dreamed about exactly where he'd touch you in this moment. His blazing hot fingers rub your clit as his tongue scorches your throat. You cum together, he releases hot magma that has your walls clenching around him, begging for all of it. You wish you could keep him inside you forever.

You're crying again but for a different reason now. This has to end. The potion will wear off eventually and you'll be separated again. Now that you've had a taste how can you let go?

Your tears sizzle away when he gently cradles your cheeks in his hands. You squint through blurry wet eyes, his face says everything he can't say in that moment.

He'll never give up on you. He'll only let go temporarily for your safety but he won't rest until you find a way to be together like you're clearly meant to be, especially now that he's had a taste of you.

You'll find a way.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Hey, so I thought of something funny, the Wukongs (and D.O) meeting the reader as the grim reaper (specifically the wolf from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish). And while she's pissed that they decided to cheat Death (AKA her), the monkeys are ignoring that fact and are constantly trying to hit on her. And what's worse they're not afraid of her. (Cause Death loves the smell of fear.)

I LOVE PUSS IN BOOTS THE LAST WISH!!! DEATH IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER!!🤩

(Lmk Wukong) GOD He is so annoying, he's been nothing but troublesome and irresponsible sense day one. Worse part is he was searching for immortality for his arrogant and vain self like the selfish jacka** he ended up being. Way earlier in the His centuries , he was deathly afraid of you (HA get it🤣😈) and you thrive oh his fear. What you didn't expect was for him to be so scared of you that he would find a way to escape you entirely. You tried to stop him by taking his soul early but he was a cheeky slippery like sh*t, at the end of it all he became immortal meaning he's no longer scared of you at all. This made your blood boil and you stormed off away from him leaving him be for years but the thing is he now spends his immortality trying to woo you and win you over. This might be a good time to get this thing called a Restraining order😑

(MKR Wukong) He's the second one you can't stand at all. His sh*tty attitude irritates you so bad of course you would go to threaten him especially when he was searching for immortality. I bet you 20 bucks too that the reason he's looking for immortality is a F*ck you to not only heaven but you as well. That caused a fued to break out and The final straw was when he became immortal, and boi did you go off at him as you both fought again. Then he somehow took you off guard and he crashed dead smack on to you lips, you freaked out of course and pushed him off but instead he pulled you closer and well with the Adrenaline and sudden move affection. He got to know you all too well, but you were able to get away from him blushing and growling at him. It was too late though because now he wants you very badly.

(NR Wukong) Oh lord, once he found out you were a woman, their would be no getting away from him. He would spemd everyday flirting with you and trying different ways to woo you. It was so annoying and inconvenient to your work, He became immortal centuries ago, and you would avoid him like a plague, but unfortunately, you knew him as a mortal Of course, you know the song and dance you would thrive on his fear of being scared of death. Unfortunately, years down the line, he found out something about you. When you both fought each other one more time, he ripped your poncho and saw a pair of breast cover Ina lace bra. Making you turn red in anger and embrassment before knocking his ass out. Hopefully, you scramble his brain to think he was hallucinating, but that clearly didn't work because, worse of the worst of all, he's trying to bed and marry you.

(HIB Wukong) Oh, you both have bumped heads, both when he was mortal and immortal centuries ago. Their was never a time when you both weren't fighting, his arrogance knew no bounds at the time, so it was fun knocking him on his ass. Then you found out about his immortality, which caused you to snap in a way that it never did before. You went to stop him from getting to immortality, and you both actively throw hands with each other during the journey to find immortality. It turns out to be all in vain at the end because Wukong got to the immortality peaches, and boy were you pissed. Cursing him in Chinese and Wukong no longer fearing you we fought for a good while until he grabbed to your boob. Shocking you both making you both blush and you yell profanities as you punched him, and that's how you got a monkey to become obsessed with you.

(Netflix Wukong) Oh man it was Hilarious bullying this joker when he was a mortal. I mean he did have your sympathy when he didn't really fit in with the other monkeys, but ever since he got that God forsaken stick He quickly became a pain in your ass. It's gets worse when you find out that he's on the path to get immortality, which was the straw that broke the Camels back. You tried to scare him out of his journey for immortality, and you would Spook him and pop out of nowhere Whistling at him. Well at the end unfortunately for you 2 things happen, 1 he finally got his immortality for himself, and 2, he found out that his bully was a female, and now he won't leave you alone. You tried to scare him away, but instead, he cuddled you close. Just great😒

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh he just loves to get under your skin about his immortality😡 He's been taunting you for years with arrogance and brazen trouble making and Attitude. You would think that ass whooping you gave him as a teenager would get the point across but no If anything it motivated him to not only escape you but to one day get a rematch from you. When he did get his immortality, he did not one but seven freaking times It's like he was pissing you off on purpose and it gets even worse when he was never scared of you in the first place. You know what's worse instead of being scared, his stupid ass flirts with you you want to strangle him but you can't 😤😡🤬

(The Destined one) He doesn't actually annoy you as much as the others would. If anything he peaks your curiosity, as he wonders around on his journey it seems like he's rediscovering the world around him. Granted you hate how he got his immortality and Therefore doesn't have any reason to fear you, but he was incredibly respectful of you anyway so you didn't have any reason to decline his request for a date.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[granddaughter-of-shaokahn]

Apodos PIB (español)

Gato

Los apodos que te da:Gato,Mi amor,princesa,baby,mi amante,mi vida

Apodos que le das:gatito,mi héroe favorito,Pickles,forajido,jenjibre,puss-y

Muerte

lo que te da:My wife,mi diosa,mi vida,caperucita roja,angel,Amor mio

Lo que le das:Lobo,cachorro,wolfie,lindo,esposo,perrito guardian,big bad wolf

Kitty softpaws

Lo que te da:T/n,Mi cielo,ternura,Muñeco,tesoro,Idiota(cariñosamente)

Lo que le das:Ladrona de mi corazon,Pelusa,cariño

Ricitos de oro

Lo que te da: Bestia,Lover,Tonto,Perfección,T/n,

Lo que le das:Rubio,Goldie,Linda,chica oso

[cvnt4him]

hinata's first kiss.

like he'd be so blushyyyy...

like bro would be panicking

sho's first kiss?

Nothing less than sweet. Sure it was....odd. but it was yours<3

If he's w a more experienced reader I feel as if he'd be so self conscious thinking things like,

“ what if they think I'm lame..”

“ what if it's bad..what if I'm a bad kisser?!”

Shoyo would literally be shaking in his lil boots. You'd gently pull his face closer and tell him to ‘relax’ he would NOT relax gang.. he would be jittery and his breath quivering. You gently let your hand caress the back of his neck as he shivers at your touch, pulling him closer, you slowly lean in.

sho would be all flustered and red, he wouldn't be stammering me thinks. I feel like he'd be more like shaky and his breath would quiver in such a way that it's like audible?

If it's w reader who also doesn't have much experience I think he'd be more at ease but still equally as nervous.

You both just sit and look at each other for a minute before laughing to yourselves. You slowly scoot closer to each other, your faces getting closer and closer by the second. His breath fanning your face in a jittery manner. His eyes trail down to your lips and, as nervous as he was he seemed...ready. eager?

I also think that regardless of if reader is experienced or not he'd still be hella eager and excited. Like his nerves would be bad yeah but he'd be so excited that the blood just rushes to his adorable face. Those wide eyes peering at you, waiting for your call to see if you're ready.

I think when I talk ab shoyou my thoughts go to s4 sho, he seems more...durable? than s1 sho. s1 sho was a puss puss ngl

[jjkeremika]

AoT men who are soft when intimate with you (Soft Paws)

Armin, Zeke, Erwin, Connie, Bertoldt

description: they can’t help it!! there’s just something about you that brings it out of them…

**nsfw**

Armin - duh

Baby boy will do whatever you ask him to. As soon as the opportunity presents itself (i.e., you start to take your clothes off), he’s desperate for you, mind reeling with millions of ways to touch and please you.

“Oh, ngh, love, you are—hnf, so, so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your lips, his fingers lightly folding over your breast, “so lovely.” One hand will travel up your arm overhead to hold yours, aligning his words with each snug thrust, “You have to know that.”

Armin will tighten his grip and slam his hips against yours if you ask him to, but if it were solely up to him, he’ll use more lube, exercise more care, touch and kiss you more softly. It’s just—he didn’t like the idea of hurting you in any capacity, and it honestly turns him on to know you’re enjoying yourself, fully, completely, because of him.

If the sex didn’t feel like you were floating on the comfiest cloud, nudely basking in the warming rays of his brightest love, pleasurable winds traveling through your body, he was doing it wrong.

Zeke - if you ignore that he’s bruising your hips what he’s saying is soft and emotional

Zeke’s contradictory behavior is so blatantly obvious during these shared intimate moments, when his thoughtful, fragile emotionality equated his strong, dominant physicality; when his mind is so distracted with blinding care for you and his body is infected with a feverish desire only drilling into you can satisfy.

During these moments is when he’s at his most vulnerable, and this openness manifests in a running mouth, rambling on about how much you make him feel, how much he needs you in more ways than he could describe, how you consume his mind.

“Ze-aaAH!” you always interrupt his devoted monologue with a strained moan, when his thumb digs into your hip bone and his tip rubs against your spongy insides before pulling out and shoving back inside.

“Sorry, baby,” he’ll say with his lips pressed to your skin, looking at you with apologetic puppy eyes, a faint reflection of yourself with a sweaty halo visible in the blue, “I’ll slow down, promise, I-I just, fuck, you are so hot, you drive me wild, I, mmf, fuck—”

Erwin - more rough… but his hands are soft

Okay, it starts soft, and his hands are soft, but the longer he pounds into you and the longer he gropes at your mewling, begging body, the harder and tougher his movements became.

Erwin’s always careful not to leave visible bruises along your hips, but all that care comes at the cost of not paying attention to the speed of his thrusts. Your moans dampened by the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy rapidly led to his devolution, and he loses himself in your warm muscles enveloping his most sensitive extremity every time, pushing further in and demanding more every time.

If it didn’t feel so good you’d tell him to slow down, to give you a break. But the burning ache in your gut vastly overpowered the budding soreness in your abdomen and you bit your lip and focused on just how smooth his palms are, how he definitely moisturizes after washing his hands.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet, angel,” Erwin whispers in your ear from behind, bringing one hand to lightly caress your cheek despite shoving himself in and out of you. He rubs his other hand down your spine, achingly gently caressing each nub as he arches his cock into that spot. “You’re doing so well, angel.”

Connie - you’re his baby bunny!! he can’t hurt his bunny :(

It’s not that he thinks you’re weak and you need him to hold back… it’s just, well, you are his precious bunny, and how could he hurt his bunny?

“Ooo, bunny, you know I love when you move like that,” Connie moans deeply, gutturally, as you wiggle your hips and grind onto his lap. His hands lightly hover over your thighs, hesitantly, like he needs your approval.

He presses his face into your chest as your hands hold onto his shoulders; you feel his chin press against your sternum as he looks up to you longingly, his hands sliding to above your ass.

You sigh dramatically, puff out your bottom lip into a pout as you drop roughly onto his lap. “Con, you can touch me you know,” you drag his hands in yours along your body, from your thighs to your breasts, “I want you to.”

You smile at the high-pitched whine he releases, preen as his fingers quickly wrap around the fleshy skin. “Mmm, bunny,” he whispers against your lips with a reciprocated smile, nosing into you, “all you need to do is ask.” Connie kisses down your neck, still smiling. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Bertoldt - speaks for itself

Ooph, baby… did you have to put in some work.

Even sitting in his lap, crossing your calves across each other behind the chair, anchoring him down, with one hand undoing the upper shirt buttons and the second holding his hair. Bertoldt’s hands hover just above your thighs with the brightest red blush intimately gracing his cheeks, his erection peeking out to press against your thigh.

His face inches closer to yours every time and you nod to convince him to hold you, to help edge him over the nerves. One rock with your hips and his hands glue to your bum, softly massaging the fatty skin through your short fabric.

“Hold me tighter,” you request, wrapping his head in your arms. He nods and lightly pushes his crotch into yours, but barely obliges in tightening his grip.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whimpers into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss like admitting it would hurt your feelings.

You coo, taking his face carefully into your hands and lifting his lips to yours. “Berty-baby, I’d like it even if you did.”

[oldgirl-shoutinginthevoid]

More questionable sketches about Death x Reader

The second one is something i imagine happening in the future of Limbo JASDASDAS and is based on this comic of beastars