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avatarchic · 8 months ago

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TWENTY-SIX MONTHS

— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader

— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au

— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch

— word count. 8.2k

— requested? no

— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))

Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.

You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.

For you, he was everything.

For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.

He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.

The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.

After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.

The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.

You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.

Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.

For his sake.

You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.

As a family.

Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.

Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.

A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.

You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.

You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white.

You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.

You didn’t know if he was alive.

The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes.

The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him.

You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.

Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.

Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret.

Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.

“Da… Dada…”

You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.

“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.

The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.

While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.

“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”

“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”

“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”

You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.

You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.

Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.

Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.

Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.

The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.

The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.

He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.

He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.

“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”

Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.

You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.

As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”

Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.

“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.

Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.

“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”

His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.

And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.

“Dada…!”

The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.

Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.

Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.

“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”

Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.

Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.

Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”

You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.

Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.

“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you.

The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.

He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.

His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.

When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.

“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is.

Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”

You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.

“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.

“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.

Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”

With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”

“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child. “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.

“Shoto, no,�� you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”

“Then why?” he breathes.

You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”

Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”

“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.

After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.

Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.

Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”

You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”

“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.

“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”

Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.

Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.

“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.

“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.

With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.

“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”

He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”

You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”

Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”

Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”

“Shoto—”

“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”

You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”

“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”

Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”

“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”

With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”

Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”

“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”

You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.

Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”

You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.

Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.

His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.

Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.

Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.

“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory.

You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.

A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements.

You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.

His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss.

“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently.

Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.

“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”

Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”

When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?

He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.

When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”

“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.

Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”

Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.

Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”

Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”

He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.”

Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply.

“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”

“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”

His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. “Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”

Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.

His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.

Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern.

Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”

You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows.

“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”

Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum.

Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.

“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.

You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.”

Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest.

Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.

Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”

He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.”

His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”

Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”

Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you.

Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”

Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”

His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.

His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you.

Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead.

“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”

Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.

“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”

“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”

You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”

Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.

Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”

Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”

Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”

You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.

A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

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bejeweledblondie · 1 year ago

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons

A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Warnings: NSFW

• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with

• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down

• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met

• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were

• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)

• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then

• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful

• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric

• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him

• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you

• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that

• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them

• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)

• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal

• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is

• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)

• Simon always would be your fiercest protector

• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds

•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out

•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready

•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”

•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge

• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed

• you have a whole security system too

• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor

• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners

• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed

• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed

• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life

• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage

• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls

• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter

• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery

• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl

•Price had to comfort him father to father

•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out

✨NSFW ✨

• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane

• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half

• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards

• has a massive corruption & daddy kink

• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite

• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them

• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that

• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you

• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet

• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color

• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl

• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours

• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”

• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink

• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks

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reshinless · 2 months ago

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Hii! I wanna request for a nsfw single dad! Wriothesley or Moze x kindergarten teacher! reader that takes care of their kids for them while they're at work 🤔

Thank you!! 🩷

──── age ain't nun but a number

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. when he feels something for the single kindergarten teacher that their kid accidently calls them mom/dad. can't help the pretty thought of getting to call you his either

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. wriothesley x gn!afab!reader (i use the term pussy :3) !!nsfw content ahead!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. i've yet to read about headcannons on moze! for now please settle with wriothesley only :pray:

wriosthesley recently started to send his lovely daughter off to school, specifically kindergarten (homeschooled her for nursery). waving her off as she looks off to the classroom- before turning around to face him with small tears prickling her redish-pink eyes.

"baby, what's wrong?" he calms her down shortly after, but still with a sigewinne who was still visibly saddened at the thought of leaving her dad.

all of a sudden, a gorgeous figure comes out of the classroom, and kneels beside wriothesley in a way to calm sigewinne down as well.

"hi sweetheart, what's your name?" you took the small blue haired girl's palms into yours, they were a little cold. "i-'im sige-sigewinne!" almost as if completely cheering up after seeing how beautiful you were, her father completely stunned as well.

"i'm (name), how about you come in and meet the other kids inside, would you like that?" the small girl quickly nodded at your words, watching as you stood back up and offered your hand out to her, sigewinne who takes it just as fast, holding onto one of your fingers.

as you let the bunny-like girl into the classroom, you walk back up to flushed face of her father. "t- thank you for that. i- i- um.. i'm wriothesley." he offers out a hand as you chuckle lightly. "i'm (name), does she get anxious without you or was that because this is her first time away from you?"

"ah.. the second. you .. the teacher of the classroom?" "mmmm, yes i am." oh your voice was just as lovely as your face. his eyes scanned over your features while you discussed details on sigewinne's schedule. subtly checking you out before his eyes trail back up to see you aren't talking anymore. oh.

"oh.. ahem-" he coughs awkwardly to excuse his actions as your own face flushes a little. "i'll send you the rest via... hmm, where can i contact you?" perfect- a way to get your number!

"ah just.. here." he hands his phone to you, as you added it to your contact list. "i'll send it to you there then." you bowed and left to tend to your class of 20 kindergarten students. fuck you were beautiful.

cut to a few months into school days, sigewinne is doing great all but in one subject. which results wriothesley having to ask you for a bit of tutoring just for sigewinne, openly inviting you into their house.

you agree, not minding helping another kid. as you drove over to his house; you felt a little bit of fuzz in your heart, seeing a moderately-sized house, with fence which looks like its supposed to be white; was colored to be coincidentally the colors of sigewinne's hair. random strokes and lines scattered all over each standing wooden plank, you couldn't help but laugh a little.

as you got out, you observed out the sidewalk near his home had hopskotch sketches on the floor as well, how adorable. as wriothesley opened the door to welcome you inside, the house seemed pretty spacy.

"i know its not much, but this house was closest to the school." he chuckled as he led you over to where sigewinne was waiting. "tell me if you need anything."

wow he sounds even better upclose. his smile is pretty too, the apron he wore as he baked sigewinne-shaped cookies was pretty cute as well.

but as much as it all seemed very adorable, and fluffy. wriothesley couldn't lie what he'd been feeling the last few months in knowing you, and knowing how much sigewinne looks up to you, even overhearing the way she accidently calls you mom/dad, meaning that even if he proposed right here and now; his daughter would gladly accept. his last partners she never approved of- but with you, it's almost like she was actively trying to get you together.

before he walks into the room to ask if you and sigewinne are hungry; he hears her ask a little question. "miss/mister (name)! do you like my daddy?" sigewinne tugs at the hem of your sleeve. "ah- w- what do you mean?" "you like daddy, right? because you always smile when you go to escort me back to him, i don't see you do that to like.. aika's dad! or amira's mom! so you like daddy!"

unbeknownst to you; the strong, and big reputation fighter wriothesley blushed behind the closed door, hearing every little aspect of the conversation. putting the desserts back before putting his ear against the door again. "your daddy is nice, but i can't have relationships with my student's parents. it's unprofessional." "so you would date daddy if you didn't work here? oh but i'm gonna miss you in class if you leave!"

you found it adorable how she thought you'd leave your job for wriothesley, but you definitely couldn't afford doing so; not at the expense of your own living space being taken from you again.

"i just.. i guess you're a little right, 'winne. but i can't do that right now." "daddy makes enough money! this is only one of his houses!" "alright alright that's enough, let's get back to studying."

something so innocent, yet so captivating about the way you talked about him, you simply agreed about smiling the more you saw him. he felt mutual about it. ah- damn he shouldn't think the way he does about you, catching himself palming his urgent erection through the fabric of his boxers at night to the thought of your entrance sinking onto his length so politely- he's getting ahead of himself now.

but fuck it'd definitely be hot, to feel you on him, or watch how he'd be the one to arch your back as you creamed onto his cock. oh fuck, guess the pastries will wait. off to the bathroom he goes.

oh but the thought of you just bending over for him, telling him it's all his, he definitely could bust right here and now. stroking his girth, imagining how it'd be so slippery, so vulnerable just taking it like anyone would.

shit he already felt it coming- his dick definitely felt a lot more sensitive than last time he thought of jerking off to you; and damn did it feel good as hell. damn, was that already his cum on his own stomach.. he came at the thought of you again. third time this week. huh.

he came out, pulling his pants a bit, looking a little disshelved, more than earlier at least as you saw him walk by. "hey, i put her to sleep for now." you wave to him as you round the corner from her room. "mmm? that's good." he took a seat beside you, "oh uh, and i have a little favor to ask, you mind i stay for now? the rain doesn't seem like it'll let up anytime soon."

"yeah, sure, make yourself at home, baby." he hadn't realized the slip of tongue of calling you the nickname, barely noticing the clear flustered state he had put you in. "huh, what's with the face?"

you looked away, admitting it was nothing, 'till he ringed a strong arm around your shoulders, using his finger to make you look into his eyes, turning your head back to his. "then you'd tell me, yeah?"

you couldn't avoid how attractive it was, it was a swift reaction. you could feel something pooling/hardening down in your lower region, "it's really.. u- um nothing. i just.. i.." you held eye contact with him for a bit before you felt a hand grasp your hair from behind your head, pushing your lips into his.

you reciprocated the kiss for a bit, as you pulled away, eyes opened in shocked, as wriothesley looked like it was a normal thing between you two. "has anyone told you how pretty you are?

"..." "does it make you nervous when i stare? sorry, it's a habit when you're that gorgeous." "this.. is.. this is unprofessional! i- i'm sorry i-" you try to explain before he pulls you closer with his arm, "sigewinne sees you as a parent figure, it's fine."

"c'mere, pretty, she won't know we did this, and no one else will, not unprofessional if no one else will know. i know you want me too." he stroked your cheek, a smirk appeared on his face, while he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "come on, break the rules just once, i'll show you a good time."

...

he had you pinned onto his mattress upstairs, clothes stripped and onto the floor, now he could finally observe all and every inch he's been longing to see of you. trailing his palms all over your body, exploring it as much as he could. "just.. tell me to stop if i need to, 'kay?"

he already pried your legs open with just his words, one of his snake up to the other, holding it with a gentle, and soft touch, making sure you knew he cared about the way you felt about what he was doing.

but it was the way it was basically, your pussy was calling to him, the way they tightened around his fingers. "damn- already wet for me, baby?" he teased as he lowered his head to set a kiss on your cheek, watching you whimper, and arch your back from the simple art of getting played with (and it was just his fingers, just imagine his cock!!)

as he unbuckled his belt, shit you couldn't deny the sound of hearing his pants lower and drop the ground turned you on so much- ahh you could already imagine the way it'd feel inside. but you didn't have to imagine because he already lowered his cock to enter inside you, shit you could feel your already split in half from just the tip.

you can feel his girth, every vein, and inch, you could feel everything. "shh baby, i know you can take it." you could feel a reassuring squeeze on your palm. you could feel his forehead in contact with your as he slowly continued to penetrate, so slowly, so sensually. you felt a plethora of emotions, the guilt being quickly washed over with pleasure.

"ah- uhuh? you like that? like the way my cock kisses your stomach, sweetheart?" he teases into the shell of your ear. sending shudders down your spine, kissing your neck briefly. "ahh- mmf! yes, i do.." you whimper out with shame, the way his shaft smacked against your g-spot felt so good.

your legs started to tremble. you could feel his skin slap onto yours, making loud sounds that definitely would wake his neighbors up.

the strength in his palms that kept your thigh up on his shoulder now never faltered. hearing each moan felt like he only wanted to penetrate you even more.

"ah ah ah. careful with your sound so, pretty. you might wake up 'winnie." coy teasing is heard from the low rasp of his voice- damn he knew what he was doing. it was hard as hell to keep it down if his cock made such an adorable bulge in your stomach.

reaching for your swollen clit, rubbing over it with his thumb- oh fuck you could feel your third orgasm coming already. it didn't help how quickly he thrusts inside you, adding onto the euphoria you felt pooling in your stomach. the pressure only got worse the more you could hear his groans.

you started to clench onto the base of his cock, making it even harder for him to penetrate your stomach the way he did previously. "damn baby- relax, tryna keep me in there, or something?" he teased, promptly speeding up his digit over your pussy.

"haahn- gonna.. gonna c-cum wrio- fffuck!" you moaned loudly, squirting succus, as wrio holds your hips close to his own.

"hooollyy shiiit.. came all over me baby." he says breaths between his words.

he slowly pulled out of you, finally leaving your puffy hole alone, keeping one of his hands on your cunt still. "stay still, pretty." he licked a stripe over it, progressively lapping up the mix of cum between you both in your hole.

there was just something about either keeping every last drop in there, or at least letting himself have a taste to indulge in more intimacy as you calm down from your high (or cum on his tongue again, whatever you want.)

wriothesley who carries you bridal style to the bathroom. cleaning you up, and lets you borrow some of his clothes for the mean time before you go back home.

"dad! look! there's a storm outside!" sigewinne points out, her little finger out the window, cheek against the glass.

seems like you won't leave for now, how about you stay for the night?

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elegantgardenrunaway · 20 days ago

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Mouthwashing headcannons:

Tulpar crew x Robot!reader

A/N: In my mind, robo-reader is more like those robots don't really look a lot like humans (like, they have the basic form and that's it), but you can imagine them as you wish.

Warnings: Grammar mistakes (English is not my first language), Jimmy; suspicious behavior coming from the mentioned, I clearly don't know about robotics, romantic relationships not specified.

Anya

To be honest she was a little uncomfortable with you. Acting stiff and on guard around you.

Like most of the crew members.

You usually help her with menial tasks such as organizing the nursery or getting reports done as your purpose (at least the outspoken one) is to assist the crew with their tasks with the best of your abilities.

... And no, she's not nervous you can give reports to their superiors back on earth.

As time passes, she begins to get used to your presence and even enjoy it.

You give her a lot of book recommendations to read for when she returns to earth, even though she doesn't exactly have the money to buy them, she still appreciates it.

But what she appreciates more is that you often help her to prepare for her next attempt to get into medical school, encouraging her to pursue her dreams.

It might sound crazy, but she sometimes thinks that, beyond the code that makes you a dutiful machine, you actually have a mind on your own.

Because she has a feeling no robot that belongs to a corporation like pony express is as servicial and loyal as you.

Anya and Daisuke make their own doodles of you, and if you don't have a lot of human appearance then they often come up with ideas about how you would look if you were a human and make sketches to show you so you could give your opinion on them.

Some of those sketches survived the crash.

Daisuke

If he thought the cryopods were cool, then he went absolutely insane when he saw you.

Like, come on! You are a robot! And you can talk and make super cool stuff hyper mega awesome stuff right?

He made you and Swansea a lot of questions non-stop for days, giving the later a massive headache. But that's not something new.

You help him a lot with his internship, something like his second teacher, but less grumpy and not human.

You are not perfect though. You overwhelmed the poor guy with information the first day to the point you ended up saying stuff that not even Swansea understood.

So you also had to learn a lot of how human learning worked, adjusting your "classes" according to the interests, necessities and skills of your pupil.

Actually, you learn a lot of how to be human with Daisuke. Or at least the age group he belongs to.

You begin to use a lot of the language and body language that he has been teaching you.

Swansea is tired.

Daisuke can do basic stuff for your maintenance. You offered to give him a lesson about how you work, but Swansea would rather not his paycheck removed should something happen to you.

Believes you could rebel against humans or so he says. He has made you promise not to go against the crew, or his parents, or the friends he has on earth... Or maybe the whole human population if possible.

Swansea

Honestly, rather than stealing his job or something you are giving him more work to do.

As if he didn't have enough with having to take care of that kid.

If it wasn't obvious, the mechanic is basically your nurse, the one that makes most of your maintenance.

Your charging station (if you have one) is definitely in utility.

You are his assistant when giving lessons to Daisuke. But once you took it too far and ended up babbling nonsense that Swansea is not even aware of.

You often hear him mumble things while he makes your maintenance, sometimes says things about his family, sometimes about his job and one or two about his life before Pony Express.

Honestly if he doesn't believe you have your own conscience, then he sometimes forgets it.

You had heard his playlist the most, I just know it.

Or if you have a radio or speaker or something he'll make you put on his playlist.

He trusts that you take care of Daisuke when he's not around.

Jimmy (Yes, we have to address him unfortunately)

Definitely makes you some (maybe a lot) of his work and he excuses it as having something more urgent to do (spoiler: he doesn't) so you don't have to ask questions.

Searches for loopholes in your programming so he can do whatever he pleases without having to worry about you making a report for the big guys. But if not, he's willing to do more.

Would he risk actually messing with your mechanism/code so he could get whatever he wants? Definitely.

If anything, Swansea would be the one who has to deal with any "memory failure" you present.

Secretly unnerved by you.

Contrary to the other crew members, he doesn't address you as a person, often referring to you as an object, a machine or his favorite; "that thing".

Takes advantage of the fact that you don't really don't know that much about humans.

Doesn't think you have a conscience. You are a machine, a tool. Nothing more.

Unless he pushes hard enough, that is.

Curly

Wasn't very happy to have you on board to be honest, but it was mandatory from the higher positions.

Though he makes sure that he doesn't say anything inadequate in front of you, still in guard for the most part.

He just sees you as one of the most efficient things that pony express had given in all these years.

He thinks you are more thoughtful than he expected coming from a product of pony express.

Or maybe, just maybe he sometimes sees you as another (human) member of the crew.

But that just doesn't happen very often.

He's amused when you start to copy some of the other's mannerisms and try to blend more within the crew.

#Mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing x reader #gn reader #x reader #robot!Reader #mouthwashing headcanon #curly x reader #anya x reader #daisuke x reader #swansea x reader

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alivegirldetectiveagency · 5 months ago

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The show gives us very little information about edwin’s life. i’m pretty sure all we know is (1) he read detective stories (2) is father would call crystal a bobtail (3) he was presumably bullied (i say presumably because the ritual could have been a first incident but i find that unlikely just cause. the severity of it)

i hope we learn a little more if we get a season 2 because i think edwins childhood would give interesting insight into him (this goes for all the characters actually) but i think we can make a lot of assumptions about what his life was like based off the time period

(disclaimer: i am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, so i apologize for any inaccuracies)(and for any typos)

this post got kinda long so the rest is under the cut

edwin lived from 1900-1916 which mostly encompasses the edwardian era (1901-1910). for the purposes of this post i will be talking as if it was all edwardian for simplicity and also because the last few years of the victorian era and the first few years after edward vii would have been very similar. i am also operating under the assumption the paynes were upper class because (1) vibes (2) edwin is very formal which would have been emphasized the most in the upper classes (3) he had the time and money to go to boarding school which still wasn’t very accessible (although education was growing in importance)

the importance of childhood was growing in the era and there was a lot more leisure time and entertainment. still, etiquette and manners were very important so there would have had the “seen and not heard” attitude towards children. in upper class families, child rearing would have been done by a nanny and not the mother. the father as head of the house would have been strict and interacted little with the children. so edwin probably saw very little of his parents while growing up even before boarding school. since edwin was a son his father might have taken him out for things like shooting/hunting but that would have been just him and his father (and brothers if he had any). also edwin does Not seem like he would have enjoyed that so i dunno if much bonding would have occurred during those outings. family time in general would be rather brief. He would have had more time spent with siblings his age since younger children would have spent most of their time in the nursery/with the nanny.

i’m going to brush past the school life part because i do not know much about it other than that he would have started at st Hilarions around 13. and that i’m pretty sure corporal punishment was used in boarding schools like it at the time? (not entirely sure on that front it depends on if the school is state sponsored) we can infer from the show that edwin did not have a Great time at school but i don’t know what the specifics would have been like

etiquette was very very important. i don’t think the edwardian era was quite as strict as the victorian era but there was still a LOT of social expectations. including the perfect posture george rexstrew does as edwin. etiquette would also include addressing everyone properly and limited affection. you also wouldn’t really touch anyone! not to get their attention or shake hands in greeting or clapping someone on the back. Self control was everything even in times of excitement or distress. Social classes were very strict although the industrial revolution created the neavue riche so social mobility was not impossible. new rich families often tried to adapt the traditions of the (aristocratic) upper class but integration was slooow. (Middle class families would adopt trends from the upper classes too). while formality was important, language in general was simplifying partially due to mass newspapers. if you’ve ever read Oliver Twist or another Dickens story, the language is very verbose and hard to follow which is par the course for victorian literature but less so for edwardian literature.

speaking of literature and entertainment we know edwin liked detective stories. he reads a max carrados story (which started in 1914) to charles and in edwin’s death flashback you see him with a detective penny/dime novel (in the scene you can read “The Aldine Tip Top Tales, High Hat Harry” and google tells me the rest of the title is “The Base Ball Detective”). Edwin probably also read Sherlock Holmes which was still popular. Growing up he might have Peter Pan/Peter and Wendy (the title changed after its initial publishing in 1904) and The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902). And more short stories and dime novels (like the Aldine company ones) since they were getting very popular at the time. Entertainments like the Winter Gardens and Pleasure Beach in Blackpool were also growing popularity. but generally outdoor upper class entertainment would have been tennis, hunting, or racing. (fun fact the 1908 summer olympics was in london so edwin might have watched it as a child!) there also would have been a lot of dinner parties but those would have been for the parents to maintain or increase social status and not necessarily include the children.

overall edwin’s childhood probably included a lot of extravagant entertainment. He would not have spent much time with his parent so unless edwin had siblings his early childhood would have probably been lonely. canon does not suggest he really made friends while in school either.

Canon and fanon has touched on how edwin’s social skills took a hit from being in hell for 70 years (which is definitely true). But on top of just escaping hell, edwin is using knowledge/skills from a vastly different social era when he first meets charles. it must have been really jarring the first few years of being friends because charles’s ideas/experiences with friendship were WILDLY different than edwin’s

#dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #dead boy detective agency #finch.txt #if anyone has anything else to add PLEASE DO #especially about the schooling

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 9 months ago

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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 3

Keeping the ball rolling after part two, here's Lucifer and reader headcanons as baby gets ever closer to arrival. I think I'll do two more, with the last one detailing the actual birth and dear Lucy welcoming his second child. Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Smut

- His dedication to soothing your aches and pains grows even faster than they do as you get further along. The wealth of information now available about pregnancy (albeit not of the supernatural variety) initially overwhelms him, but he manages to find what he needs in books about prenatal massage. It doesn't matter where or when pain strikes, he'll be there to roll up his sleeves and work as long as he needs to make sure you're better. He's happy to have a professional masseuse join the palace staff to provide the help you need, but he also just enjoys doing it himself. There's a kind of intimacy he can't explain when it comes to tending his beloved and the body you're growing his child with. It doesn't hurt that his fingers are literally magical.

- He wants the FULL stereotypical expecting-a-baby experience, so yes, he'd love to do some breathing classes with you! The King of Hell might struggle to do anything in public without attracting attention, but he manages to locate a relaxed enough class that the two of you can attend without fear of paparazzi, and he is beyond thrilled from the very first session. There's not much he can offer now and through delivery beyond support, but he intends to give 110%. Pregnant yoga is also not off the table, nor is any activity that lets the two of you bond and enjoy the experience. To a very small extent, he enjoys these sessions because he gets to be seen with you. The Sinners and Hellborn just can't help sneaking an extra look at the King and his expecting lover. He doesn't need to say a word whenever he meets the gaze of someone looking the two of you over, the proud puff of his chest says it all as he lovingly splays a hand on your belly; that's right, I pulled this.

- He wants to brainstorm names right away, and because the two of you elect to be surprised by the birth sex, a very long list of potential selections is drafted for any outcome. His tastes tend to be a bit more old fashioned, but he has a knack for choosing those whose beauty has passed the test of time. His selections are also based on humans that have caught his attention through the ages, for good and bad reasons. Charlie was named after an ancient king, for example, who stood out most to Lucifer because he managed change on a scale few can ever hope to achieve, and change was what he desired for his child above all else. As he follows the naming rule of "two yesses, one no" he listens to all of your suggestions just as eagerly, which over the months results in an increasing long piece of parchment covered in names and notes. Vetoed suggestions are crossed out and he makes a point to note any potential issues with a name in great detail, and while the process is far from streamlined, the two of you have a great deal of fun selecting a final list of favorites.

- Out of everything required to prepare the nursery, selecting baby clothes tends to get him crying from the cuteness most often. He'll hold up potential outfits and try to imagine the baby in them, and while he's got a fantastic sense of fashion, the fabulousity doesn't detract from the adorableness before him. The itty bitty booties, the tiny socks, the cute little onesies... Stars, he's going to have another perfect baby, and since they'll no doubt be as precious as Charlie was... You'll often find him tearing up but beaming in silent thought as he looks over your future child's wardrobe, and he'll always explain himself honestly; he just can't wait to enjoy another round of baby days. If only they didn't go by so quickly...

- Lots of things grow increasingly difficult as you get further along, but he's always up for the challenge of making life easier for you, especially in regards to the bedroom. A baby bump will make certain positions impossible, but that's of little consequence for a man that can bend reality and his own physical form with ease. His capacity for effortless flight makes gravity a non-issue, and where his magic hits its limit, his creativity takes over. Whatever position results in comfort and satisfaction for you will be achieved, and he thinks of plenty to be offered. With his long, forked tongue added to the mix, you need not worry about missing out, no matter how much your middle swells. If anything, he rather enjoys being on the bottom...

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mysunshinetemptress · 5 months ago

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Rápido

Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x child!reader

Warnings: none except more shitty writing sorry

You’re still only small, still wobbly on your little legs, and still along way off being able to express your feelings opting to often at times throw tantrums.

You’ve spent more time on football fields than in playgrounds, more time in locker rooms, training rooms, and even physio rooms than a nursery, interacting with children your own age. But that’s to be expected when your Mama and Mamaí are world-class athletes playing for one of the best teams in the world. Surely the experiences they give you during your globetrotting are way better than the silly little nursery, your classmates are also professional athletes who know how to walk, talk and write, is that not better for you than some other snot-nosed two-year-olds who cry when they can’t reach a colour to draw on paper with.

But while all of these experiences are great, you’ve never really learned to share, you haven’t had to, your Mamaí’s are yours, your Tia’s and Grandparents are too. They have to be, they don’t spend any time with any other little kids like they do you. Your their baby, the teams baby they remind you as such when you start to kick off at the sight of them holding other kids hands as they walk out on to the pitch while your stuck with your Tia Alba and Abuela.

It was routine at this stage frustration would bubble in your tiny chest like a deflated soccer ball. You would stomp your foot, a wobbly attempt that would send you teetering before Tia Alba swooped you up, whispering words you didn't quite understand in order to calm you down.

Today is different though, you don't arrive at the stadium with Tia Alba and Abuela, in fact, you don't even get dropped off at Abuela's house, maybe your Mamai's forgot but you don't dare let out a sound in case they remember.

A grin stretched ear to ear on your face as Mama hoisted you out of the car seat. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass and popcorn mingled in the air, a symphony that announced you'd arrived at your favourite place – Camp Nou, Barcelona's legendary stadium. But today, something felt different. It was just you and Mamai's. Mama was here, her strong arms scooping you up and burying your face in the familiar scent of sweat and something sweet that must be Mamaí's perfume. While your Mamí retrieves everyone's bags from the back of the car before coming over and smiling down at you.

"Hola, Rápido," Mamí chuckled, her voice warm against your ear. "Excited for the big game?." You nod happily "Si, Mamí."

Suddenly, there's a loud shout from behind you and your Mamaí’s turn to see Mapi running straight for you all.

"There's my favourite niece!" she exclaimed, reaching out her hands. You giggled at the energetic defender reaching towards her, wanting to be passed off. Your Mama laughs happily giving you over "Hola to you too Mapi." Mapi waves your Mama off as she starts talking to you excitedly and begins to walk inside, Ingrid pulls your Mama into a hug "Hola Ale, Jenni how is Rápido today?." Your Mamaí’s begin to walk in with the younger Norwegian as they smile at the sound of your giggles. "She is good, she still doesn't know about the surprise yet." Ingrid smiled watching your interaction with Mapi as they made their way into the changing room "I think she'll love it."

Your eyes widened as you entered the locker room, hand clutched tightly in Mapi's. It wasn't just the usual pre-game buzz. Today, colourful balloons were tied to every locker, and a giant banner adorned the wall that read: "Welcome to the Team, Rápido!"

A gasp escaped your tiny lips. All your Tia's, your Mamaí's teammates, were gathered around, beaming at you. Cata, the gentle giant of a goalkeeper, knelt down, her arms outstretched. you were, usually shy around so many people, but you ran towards her, a shy smile forming on your face. Cata scooped you up, showering you with tickles, making you erupt in a fit of giggles.

Suddenly, a booming voice filled the room. "Rápido!" It was your Mama, holding a tiny Barcelona jersey with the number "10" emblazoned on the back. It was small just like you, the number your Mamí always wore. Your eyes welled up with a mixture of confusion and excitement.

Mama explained, "This is your jersey, Rápido. You're officially part of the team now!"

Unable to word how grateful you were you ran straight for your Mama, who didn't hesitate to pick you up and hold you close and squeeze her as tight as your little arms could "Gracias Mama." Your Mamí lets out a gasp pretending you had hurt her feelings after not coming over to her. You wiggled out of your Mama's arms as she put you down before running over to your Mamí " Wow so fast Rápido." You nodded happily before trying to squeeze her just like you did your Mama "I'm wearing you." Mamí laughs "Yeah you are wearing my number."

The locker room erupted in cheers and whistles. Mapi hoisted you high in the air, your tiny "10" jersey flapping in the excitement.

Ingrid ruffled your hair playfully. "Looks like we have a new teammate, and she's already stealing the spotlight from Alexia!"

Your Mama, playfully nudged Ingrid with a grin. "Don't worry," she winked, "I think Rápido has plenty of time to learn from the best."

Cata, still beaming, handed you a miniature soccer ball. It was soft and squishy, perfect for your tiny grasp. You bounced it clumsily on the floor, sending giggles rippling through the room. You lay the football down stepping back from the ball and looking at Cata before kicking the ball as hard as you could, Cata softly fell to the right as your ball rolled left past the goalkeeper. The locker room erupted into cheers as the door opened and Jonatan walked in.

"Ladies we have a game to get ready for vamos." The room let out a small apology as your Mamí picked you up putting you on her bench before getting changed into her own kit.

"So you're going to walk out with Mama doesn't that sound fun." You nodded "And you." Mamí shakes her head "No remember I have to hold another little kid's hand." You looked at her confused "Why."

The confusion etched on your face tugged at your Mamí's heartstrings.

"Because today," Mamí explained, kneeling next to you, "we get to share the walkout with other special little kids. Just like you get to today."

Your brow furrowed, the gears turning in your tiny mind. The idea of sharing wasn't entirely foreign, but it usually involved toys, not something as special as walking out onto the pitch at Camp Nou.

That same frustration bubbled in your tiny chest like a deflated soccer ball only this time it felt ten times worse.

You shook your head confused as to why you couldn't walk with both of your parents like you normally do happily in the middle "but why."

Suddenly, the locker room door opened "Ok ladies to the tunnel." Your Mama comes over taking your hand "Ready Rápido?." You shook your head "No Mamí." Your Mama looked at you her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion "Mamí is right there."

You turn your head just in time to see your Mamí take the hand of a random little girl.

A pang of jealousy shot through your heart as you watched Mamí clasp hands with the unfamiliar girl. Her smile, usually reserved for you and Mama, was directed at this stranger. You mumbled, a tiny voice barely a squeak, "But that's not me, Mamí."

Your Mama's brow furrowed. She crouched down, her warm brown eyes filled with concern. "What's wrong, Rápido?"

You struggled to find the words, your lower lip trembling slightly. Finally, it tumbled out, a garbled mess of emotions, "Walk out... with you... and Mamí ... in the middle..."

Your Mama tries but fails to stop your tears and before she can even talk to your Mamí about it the referees in front are walking towards the pitch.

Your Mama tries to walk out after them but your feet are planted firmly to the ground and you are really crying now Alexia knows you are boarding on a tantrum and the Camp Nou tunnel is not it the place for it so she scoops you up Instead, pulling your head into her neck as you continue to cry.

The cheers of the crowd outside the tunnel were a distant roar compared to the storm raging inside you. The hope of walking out with both your parents, a tiny hand held firmly in each of theirs, felt stolen, replaced by an unfamiliar girl who had somehow usurped your special place.

Mama, ever perceptive, felt her frustration even through the tears. "Shh, Rápido," she whispered, "It's okay to feel sad."

Pulling back slightly, she wiped your tear-streaked face with a gentle thumb. "Remember what I told you? Sharing your Mamí and I doesn't mean we you any less. This a chance to share the magic of the game with other little fans, just like you."

You sniffled, trying to process this. Sharing toys was okay, even sharing snacks with you Tia's sometimes. But this felt different. This was your little family.

Sensing your hesitation, Mama smiled. "Why don't we make a deal? Right now, your Mamí walks out with the other little girl and holds her hand. Later, all three of us to walk together and Mamí and I will swing you, would you like that?"

At this point your standing in line every other mascot in front of a Barcelona player except you as your Mama still tries to bribe you.

A tiny spark of hope flickered in your eyes. The thought of playing the swing game might just be enough for you to settle.

Your Mamí looks over to you and Mama worries etched across her face but Alexia just shakes her head and so Jenni turns back to the front.

You only begin to calm down after your Mama has pinky promised to swing you after the match, only then are you happy to go off and sit with Abuela and Tia Alba telling them happily about scoring on Cata and how Mama and Mamí are going to swing you.

Later, as the stadium erupted in cheers, Mamí found you by Abuela and Tia Alba. you were, still buzzing from the match rattling off all your favourite moments as Mamí listened patiently. At a pause in your ramble Mamí held up her pinky finger with a wink.

"Swing time, Rápido,?" she asked.

You squealed with delight, launching yourself into Mamí's arms for a tight hug. As you walked towards your Mama, the tantrum and jealousy from earlier had completely disappeared.

Grabbing your Mama's hand you let out a scream as they swung you high into the air laughing at your little giggles. You still have a long way to go with sharing but for now, it's just you and Your Mama and Mamí.

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