#and I’ll be hiding in my bed until further notice

[you-expect-too-much]

I need this dress in every colour 😩

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyy,love your headcanon stuff! Especially the Batboys things

Wondering if you could do a few headcanons with the Batboys where the reader gets injured from a sport,work or something like that and they hide it from the Batboys?

It's all good if you can't or already have written something similar to this :)

Dick

Thought everything was okay until he started to notice how you’d carefully and meticulously planned out how you should move your body, which almost made you look robotic in the process.

That was when he knew something was wrong when you refused to let him hold your afflicted side, strict that you weren’t in the mood for it, but it was obvious to dick that wasn’t the case.

He’d even notice your breath hitched in your throat when you moved a certain way too fast, pulling on your injured side in a way that caused you to stop and try to breathe through the pain that was coursing through your body before continuing on with your day as though nothing had happened.

‘Are you okay sweetheart?’ He’d ask softly as you held your side instinctively when you caught it on the edge of the counter, it was a brief bump but it was enough to have you fighting back tears from streaming down your face.

‘No.’ You’d whimper, ‘I’m not. I’m hurt dickie bird.’

With that dick immediately gets you to bed and assess the situation with your side, only to see a particularly nasty looking bruise blossoming across your side in hues of purple, yellow and more. ‘Oh why didn’t you say anything sooner?’ He says as he gingerly held a pack of ice against your bruises, holding your hand with the other as you squeezed it the moment the ice pack made content with your tender side.

‘I didn’t want you to worry about me and my stupid bruises.’ You admitted and dick couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

‘I’ll always a worry about you sweetheart, no matter what I’ll always worry. So let me take care of you now.’ Dick told you as he then dedicated the rest of his spare time to making sure to ice your bruises while smothering you in kisses and words of affirmation into your skin to take your mind off of the ache in your side.

Damian

He just knows you’re hurt and it’s best not to act like you’re not because it’s not fooling him in the slightest.

Even if you tired to pass it off as something that’ll go away eventually, Damian would see through such an excuse with ease.

‘If that’s the case then why are you still struggling to pick up a kettle when making yourself a drink?’ He would ask and suddenly your mouth became dry and a mind blank of ideas on how to answer that.

Your silence was enough of an answer for Damian to know that you were full of shit and were only making things worse for yourself out of sheer stubbornness to not admit to him that you were hurt.

So Damian took it upon himself to make sure that your hand was properly bandaged, while telling you that you were not allowed to do anything that could cause you more discomfort or make things worse for yourself.

However he would personally over see your healing process himself when he wasn’t on missions, making sure that you were taking your medication, drinking enough fluids and eating enough food while doing the harder tasks for you without a single word uttered past his lips.

Damian was serious about your healing and didn’t want to see you further descend into pain if he could help it while with a look of perpetual annoyance upon his face.

‘If it bothered you so much to look after me then don’t bother-‘

‘No.’

‘No?’ You asked.

‘I don’t trust you to not hurt yourself even more, so let me do it until you can actually lift a kettle again.’ He said and you couldn’t help but smile at his way of saying that he didn’t want you to further hurt yourself out of fear, even if he did possess a unique way of saying it, but you wouldn’t have Damian any other way.

Jason

Had a suspicion that you were injured the moment you didn’t allow yourself to fully utilise your foot without groaning, grabbing on the nearest surface to steady yourself before trying to act like nothing ever happened.

Once Jason had enough of you pretending you were okay, when you clearly weren’t, He doesn’t hesitate to carry you off to your room with little struggle and put you down on your bed.

‘Jason what the-‘

‘You’re hurt and you didn’t think to tell me?’ Jason asked, a little hurt that you didn’t seemly guest him enough to admit to them you were injured, which only made him wonder about all the other times you had been hurt but didn’t say anything to him and instead suffered in silence until you were passed off as fine.

‘I didn’t want to worry you!’ You replied, seeing the hurt in his eyes and immediately feeling bad about your decision because you knew Jason valued honesty and respect in your relationship, and so you could only imagine what was going through his mind upon finding out that you were hiding something from him after having told him everything in your relationship thus far.

‘Of course I’m going to be worried when you’re hurt, you’re hurt and I don’t know how!’ Jason exclaimed but his hands remained gently when elevating your foot on the closest pillow he could find within reach. He then placed a soft, featherlight kiss to your ankle, leaving a pleasant tingle there as he looks at you tiredly. ‘I just want you to come home safe and not in bits, I just want to protect you and keep you happy.’

‘You already do that enough as it is jay birdie!’ You cried as you grabbed his hand and held it close to your chest, thumb rubbing at the pulse point on his wrist soothingly, while kissing each and every one of his fingers. ‘Besides I just tripped up on something when on my daily jog and it sprained my ankle, nothing more, nothing less.’ You explained to him as you pleased with your eyes for him to believe that you were telling the truth.

Jason, being the massive softy that he was towards you, sighed and squeezed your hand. ‘Okay chipmunk but I best not see you walking on your ankle until you’re better.’ He said sternly and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘As long as my jay birdie is the one taking care of me, then I’ll never step a toe out of this bed, it’s too comfy.’ You said and Jason visibly relaxed as he kissed your forehead. ‘That’s a shame, I like the aspect of having to carry you back to bed, I didn’t get my morning kiss before you left for your daily jog after all.’ He whispered against your skin.

You and Jason use your sprained ankle as an excuse just to cuddle and spend time together to make up for lost time between the two of you.

Bruce

Another one who’s sharp eyes immediately knows that your hiding your hurt from him.

The biggest give away was the fact that you didn’t put much weight on your afflicted foot and instead poorly attempted to hide your hobbling and facial expressions of intense discomfort you’re putting yourself through just to leave him unsuspecting.

You failed on all grounds when dating/married to a detective/vigilante.

Bruce knows you’re not okay and he’s not going to allow you to make things worse for yourself either, as soon enough he has Alfred help him set up a comfortable space for you to properly rest for the foreseeable future, making sure you had everything you could possibly need and more to make your healing journey more durable.

Even if you tried to deflect any and all notation that you were hurt. Bruce would look at you unimpressed because you were talking to someone who had once tried to fuck up thugs with a couple broken rips, fractured bones and more, only to be stopped by Alfred who walked him back to the manor like a disappointed and overtired father.

Bruce now understood what Alfred felt when he practically had to carry you to your shared room where you were to remain bed bound, not until Alfred said you were cleared to walk the manor without flaring up your injury.

‘This isn’t fair! It’s just a sprain!’ You cried as Bruce made sure that your pillows were fluffed and that your comforting blankets were even fluffier.

‘A sprain that could’ve worsened with how you treated it.’ Bruce replied as he put aside the ibuprofen gel and paracetamol tablets on the nightstand along with a glass of water before gently but quickly elevating your bandaged foot with a pillow.

‘Still i could’ve handled it myself.’ You muttered under your breath.

‘If by better you mean make it worse and prolonging the healing process, then yes I’d say you had it handled well.’ Bruce said sarcastically that you couldn’t help but notice the irony in the statement.

‘You’re just as worse!’ You pointed out, ‘how many times has Alfred has to stop you from going out at night while severely hurt?’

‘Too many to count.’ Bruce said under his breath but he only smiled at you and kissed your forehead before getting up from the bed and moved to the door of your shared room, but just as he was about to leave he gave you a pointed look. ‘You.stay.here.’ He gestured to the bed before leaving you to look up at the ceiling, knowing that if Bruce was going to be looking after you, there’s was little to no chance that he would let you step even a toe out of bed without looking at you like a overtired husband.

Bonus: baby dick and Jason are your ‘bodyguards.’ Who will tell Bruce if you even tried to leave bed before you were fully healed.

[abbyromanoff]

Could you do: beefy!gp!Carol who gets jealous after seeing you flirt with one of the avengers?

UNFAIR

PAIRINGS: Carol Danvers x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,019

WARNINGS: smut, Carol has a dick, angst, break up sex, fluff, secret love, jealousy, captain!C, praise, smut, cumming on body, jerking off, no protection, pregnancy, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” Carol proclaimed, and you had to bite your lip to prevent further disagreeance.

“You can’t just walk around and- and act like you’re all up for grabs, that’s not fair.” You clasped your hands together at her dejected face, and she plopped on the bed with a sigh.

“Carol, we’re not together anymore, I- I can talk to who I want without consequences.” She shook her head and placed it in her hands, her fingers digging at her scalp as red nearly exploded across her face. She was angry, you both knew that, but it wasn’t just anger and frustration that coursed through her veins; it was sadness, betrayal. She had no reason to feel this way, like you said, you weren’t even hers anymore. But she still felt a lingering pain deep in her chest, it felt worse than any bruise you’d tend to.

“But I still love you-“

“But you can’t, Carol. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you deserve to move on and be happy.” There was a silence filling the room, and for a moment you thought she might’ve wanted you to leave. Which you began doing before you heard a mumbled whisper. You turned, asking for the repetition you needed.

“But I want to be happy with you. I am happy with you, why won’t you just accept that? Why won’t you accept me?” You gulped, your voice seeming to hide with it as you shook from a sigh.

“We weren’t good for each other.” She stood suddenly, and your hand was taken in hers for a soft peck.

“But you were good for me. You made me feel things I never felt before, and I want to be with you again. Please, I- I promise I’ll change! Whatever you need, I’ll do it all. I’ll do anything for you, dove.” Her pleading eyes had always been impossible to ignore, and the same continued even now. You couldn’t resist her, she was the love of your life, after all.

“Just one last time, okay? We’ll have sex, and in the morning I’ll be gone, deal?” She wanted you to stay, but she knew this was the best chance she’d have at seeing you again. If she said no, who knows if you’d ever come back.

“I’ll make it worth your while then, Y/N.”

“Fuck, I’m- I’m so close, baby.” The woman mumbled, and you had to stifle a moan that still found its way out of you.

“I know, Carol, I know, sweetheart.” Your fingers dug threw her hair, your nails scratching her scalp softly in a soothing manner. Her eyes fluttered shut as her free hand fell to your hardened nipple, the other landing on your cheek as she used her thumb to stroke the soft skin.

“Can I…can I kiss you?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. But you nodded, and she instantly drew you in for a passionate, loving kiss. She noticed the goosebumps along your skin, and she drew back for only a moment, her lips lingering against yours as you begged internally for more.

“I know you’re cold, just hold onto me.” Your arms went around her back, your legs wrapping around her ass as tears threatened to escape you. You sighed in relief when her mouth met yours again, and her body heated up to the perfect temperature to keep you warm.

“Please, captain, I want you to cum in me.” She shook, and her thrusts were coming to a halt. But she kept up, determined to force your quickening arrival first. And the moment you hit your peak and eventually regained your breath, she immediately drew out, stroking her cock until reaching her peak. Her coil snapped, and her release painted your body. You looked up at her, confused as to why she dismissed your request.

“I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret. If you’re serious about..about leaving me, then I’m not going to get you pregnant and force you to handle something you can’t.” She seemed hurt at the thought, you always knew she wanted a kid, a family. She wanted that family with you, however, and you caught yourself daydreaming about the same possibility she offered you.

“You didn’t leave.” She noted, and you turned to face her with a grin, the towel covering your wet body. The shower had streaks of steam running down it, and she could tell by your looks that you had just finished taking one.

“No, I didn’t.” She sat up instantly, and you bit your lip at her exposed chest through the see-through tank top. Her nipples were hard under the cold aroma, and all you could imagine was wrapping your lips around them and hearing her groans of pleasure.

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“…I know a good diner if you’re willing to stay long enough for breakfast.”

“Sure, I’d like that.” You never would’ve expected close to a year later that you would continue to lie next to her, your hands interlacing as her free one was set on her book. Her reading glasses were on the brink of her nose, and you looked out the window to admire the scenery.

“I still can’t believe you took me to space.” She chuckled, placing a kiss on the back of your palm as she followed your gaze.

“It’s pretty great isn’t it?” You hummed, receiving a wrap of arms around your body. Her book was now in front of you, and she read it quietly in your ear. You cuddled into her chest, poking her strong biceps that she teasingly flexed.

“Thank you for not giving up on me, Carol.” She paused, taking a moment to leave soft pecks on your neck.

“I could never give up on you; on us.” She rubbed her thumb over your swollen stomach, smiling softly as she spoke a greeting to the arriving young girl.

“The moment we land on Earth, nothing can stop me from meeting my little one.”

“As long as I have you two, I’ll be okay.”

[planetpedri]

I loved the new Jobe fic you wrote it’s very nice! I was wondering if I could request a Jude one….if not you could write it for Jobe I don’t mind. One where you’re in a secret relationship and you end up being in the same place as him and his family. You both just staring at each other. Maybe you work somewhere or something else. But you can’t let anyone know you both know each other or that you’re together. So it’s just to sad and heartbreaking. Later you guys have a call or meet and it’s just breaking you both down but it’s still not a good idea to go public because of the public and their reactions. If you can and want to id love to read something similar. Thanks a lot

Ripples — Jude Bellingham.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having a famous boyfriend wasn’t easy, what wasn’t making it any easier, was how adored he was by fans. Any spark of dating rumors sent them spiraling, and Jude never wanted you to be subjected to that. You’d hit your breaking point when you had to seat him and his family at a table, and all the while, pretend as if you didn’t know him.

Word count: 1k+

Disclaimer/s: Angst with resolve + hopeful ending.

A/N: I hope I did this justice.. idk

Tightening the waist apron around you, you make your way to the front. It was shift change, and you were now taking over for your coworker. She handed you the notepad and pen, wishing you a quick, ‘good luck’ before leaving.

You let out a loud sigh, making your way to the front as there was certainly customers waiting. It was noon after all.

You’re too busy making sure everything was in your apron pockets to notice the family of four at the front. “Hello, I’m—“ You look up, breath hitching in your throat. You stutter out your name, swallowing thickly to calm your nerves, “and I will be your waitress today. Please, follow me.”

Your boyfriend and his parents, along with his younger brother Jobe, did just that. Jude seemed to be the only one who noticed your reaction, his heart thumped in his chest the second he saw your face. You’d stiffened instantly, tension clear in the way you held yourself.

Taking them to a booth, your eyes flicker to Jude’s. You watch him sit down, sending you a quick smile. Nothing significant, he’d do it even if you were just another worker.

You set out the menu’s, forcing a smile onto your face. “Can I start you off with drinks?” You ask, taking out the note pad and pen.

Denise started off with the ordering, and when it came to Jude.. well! You couldn’t even look at him. He was watching you though, trying to hide the upset in his voice as he spoke. Of course you noticed, you’d heard that tone multiple times.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” You nod, hastily making your way to the back.

The first thing you do, is hand the notepad to a co worker. “I’m not feeling well, could you take over my table?” She had nodded, concerned, but didn’t press further.

The rest of your shift went smoothly. You had unsuccessfully avoided the Bellingham’s table completely, somehow always in sight of your boyfriend. He stole glances your way, and the few times you caught them, you immediately looked away. That same thing went back and forth for the whole hour his family had dined there.

The second your shift ended, the grey cloud that had followed you around the whole day, somewhat lifted. You’d finally started to chill out when you got back in your car and drove home.

Jude had texted you multiple times, but you’d ignored them until you got into your apartment. Collapsing on your bed, you shoot him a quick text, asking him to come over.

Within seconds he replied, ‘already on my way’ and that was that. You had to impatiently wait to see your boyfriend in the safety of your apartment. No cameras to see you, no fans, no family.

The few soft knocks on the front door tells you Jude had arrived. A swarm of nerves hit you like bullets as you made your way to the entrance. You unlock it, pulling it open in the process. You’re immediately met with a half-smiling Jude. Half as in it didn’t seem to reach his eyes, which you knew meant you were in for a talk.

“Hey.” You say, opening the door wider to let him in before shutting it behind him.

Jude makes his way toward your couch, plopping down before replying. “We should talk. About today.” He adds the last part as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah.” You nod, sitting down a few feet away from him. “Why would you willingly bring your family to that restaurant? You knew I worked there!” Your voice was raising slightly out of frustration, which you immediately tried to stop. It was no use to get angry about this.

Jude straightens, his eyebrows pulling together. “It wasn’t my choice? My parents wanted to go, so we went. And I tried to give you a heads up, but you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah, well, I was working.” You chuckle humorlessly. “It’s fine, though. I just hate having to hide like this. Do you know how upsetting that was for me? To see you with your family and for them to not even know who I am?”

Jude nods in understanding, his lips pulling into a frown. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t like this, but the fans—“

“I’m a grown woman, I can handle it! I’d rather be harassed online than have to duck and hide every time we’re in the same vicinity.” Desperation clings onto your voice, your eyes softening as they dart up to meet your boyfriends.

He plays with the couch cushion mindlessly and chews on his bottom lip. “What if.. we compromise?”

This peaked your interest, your eyebrows lifting slightly. “How?”

“You meet my family and a few of my friends, but we keep it private still? And if it ends up getting out… it gets out.” It was a half assed attempt at fixing things. He couldn’t lose you, but he also couldn’t bear to think about how the public would react, which would inevitably lead to you getting hurt. And if he had to choose, Jude would rather lose you than you getting hurt in that way. “Plus, not being able to talk about you to my family is killing me.”

Half way was better than no way, so you sigh. “Fine. I can deal with that.” Scooting closer to your boyfriend, he meets you half way, using his long arms to pull you into his side. The last part of what he said suddenly clicked, a smile making its way onto your face, but you don’t say anything about it.

You two lay like that silently for a few moments, Jude’s hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair. “Y’know… my mum gave me that look at the restaurant when you walked away. I think she may have a hint of whats going on.”

Chuckling into your boyfriend’s chest, you smile. “And here I thought we were always so subtle.”

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Leave a comment if you’d like to be tagged in any future posts whether it’s specific or all <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted + @spidybaby !

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Danny ran away.

The classic reveal didn’t go right/ the GIW is hunting to him/ everyone is dead. You pick.

He’s alone. In Gotham. With nothing.

Staying in the city makes sense, right? Except for the crazy rogues he doesn’t want to get involved in or the straight up normal humans dressing up to fight them. Danny wasn’t touching that with a 10 foot pole. So he travelled further to the outskirts where he hoped to find a cabin some rich family only stays in for the summer.

Instead he finds rich mansions hidden back in the trees with big tall gates keeping everyone out. Most had people living there (he checked), all except for this one.

He’s only seen a kid, maybe ten, go in and out for school and sneaking out late at night.

Danny thinks he’s smart, sneaking in to snag some food and rest a bit when he knows the kid is gone. He doesn’t account for if the boy comes back earlier than normal.

Wide, surprised eyes meet wide, panicked eyes. Danny doesn’t even shove the next bite of Mac and Cheese in his mouth before he’s booking it to the nearest window.

“Wait!” Danny doesn’t wait. “You don’t have to go!”

Danny slows to a stop. Um, what?

He turns to give the boy a look but he doesn’t cringe back. The kid steps forward, almost impulsively.

“You’re the one who’s been stealing food and sleeping in the guest bedroom in the west wing, right?”

How the heck did he know where Danny was taking a nap? He always made sure to fix the bed when he left.

The boy continues without any answer.

“You don’t have to keep hiding. You can stay. I’ll provide you food and clothes and you can pick whatever room you want to stay in.”

Danny doesn’t know what’s gotten into the kid, but he suddenly feels flat footed and so off balanced.

“Why?” He asks incredulously. Why do all that for him? Why trust a strange teenager in his home? Why bother with him? He’s obviously homeless and has been stealing from him.

The boy’s lips thin slightly like he doesn’t want to say. Like he’s embarrassed.

Instead he says, “You had dozens of chances to steal any of the priceless artifacts in this house, but instead you only steal enough food for yourself and to rest.”

Okay. Yea, that was technically true and he could see the boy is thinking he figured out Danny’s personality by just that (it reminds him of Jazz how confident the kid is), but that doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy!

He goes to tell the kid off for thinking he knows anything about some random teen that keeps breaking into his house, but then notices the way the boy is holding himself.

“You’re hurt.”

The boy jolts like he wasn’t expecting Danny to notice at all. He looks down and adjusts his weight a bit.

“Uh…”

“Did you twist your ankle?” Danny guesses.

The boy mutely nods, looking at him with wide eyes with too much emotion to decipher.

“Well come sit down, don’t keep standing on it, dummy.”

The boy quickly makes his way over to sit delicately on the edge of the couch cushion. Danny goes to the freezer where he knows he saw an ice pack once when he was going through it.

Danny helps the kid turn and lay back until he can elevate the foot under a pillow and set the cold ice pack over the sock. The boy is still staring at him with those wide, intense eyes.

“Ice it for a while and after you take a shower I’ll wrap it for you. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“The first floor bathroom.”

“Which one? You have three.”

“Four actually. You missed the one in the laundry room.”

Danny gives him a look.

“Kid.”

“Tim,” the boy corrects happily. “My name is Tim. Timothy Drake.”

Danny just looks back for a few moments at what is undoubtedly a flicker of hope in those blue eyes. He sighs.

“I’m Danny.”

And a weird friendship was born. Or more of a sibling-ship? Brotherhood? They teeter over the line of friend and family daily.

Danny did stay and Tim was thrilled to have someone else in the house, someone that wasn’t cold or professional towards him. They played games together and joked and taught each other things.

Danny was good at fixing anything that was broken and was the one to do any errands while Tim was at school. He was also the one who had to teach Tim how to be a brother.

Tim on the other hand seemed to be good at everything but letting himself relax. He was a hyper and intelligent kid whose mind was always active, so Danny had to accommodate and come up with crazy games and tasks for the boy in the disguise of requests, but he also made the boy sit down with him to watch crappy movies and just relax together.

They had fun, but they also had bumps and misunderstands. Danny nearly blew his top when Tim snuck out to spy on Batman and Robin without telling him (and wasn’t that a conversation to remember when the Danny found out what he was really doing at night). And Tim had a problem with lying to try and make Danny not worry, which ended up doing the opposite.

They got through those hiccups together though because they were both too possessive to let the other go that easily.

Tim created a fake identity for Danny saying they were cousins. The same black hair and blue eyes kinda sold it with a backstory of Danny’s mother being disowned by Janet’s parents. Jack and Janet weren’t home enough (or invested enough) to confirm or deny.

It was funny though watching Tim stare after Jason Todd-Wayne longingly for a while, but enough was enough. If Tim secretly wanted to befriend his idol, then Danny would make it happen. And he did of course. He made friends with the butler after ‘losing’ a frisbee in their yard and asked if they could get together for dinner one night so Tim and Jason could hang out outside of school. Alfred obviously knew Danny was pushing for Tim’s sake, but he still agreed easily enough.

So became a normal for the Wayne’s and the Drake’s to eat dinner together at least once a month. And after many meetings Danny mentally checked them off as ‘okay enough for vigilantes’ and stayed behind while the two younger boys ran off to go play a game before they headed home next door.

“Mr. Wayne?”

“Come now, you know you can call me Bruce, Danny,” the man smiles. It’s a little too wide, but Danny understands he’s still trying to put on the Brucie mask. He really wish he wouldn’t.

“Right, Bruce.” He fidgets for a second with his hoodie strings and he can feel Bruce’s attention zero in on the motion. “I need to ask you a favor.”

The air turns tense with the silence after that.

“What’s wrong, Danny? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine! Promise. I just- I just need you to promise me something. Please.”

Danny felt so awkward. He has never relied on an adult before, always doing everything himself or with other kids, something Tim and him have in common. So to turn to Bruce Wayne was out of character, but he wasn’t really. He was asking Batman, and him Danny could trust a little more.

“Promise you what?”

Danny could hear the barely covered suspicion in his voice.

“If- If something happens and I’m not around anymore, I need you to take Tim in,” he states, looking at the man full on to show how serious a matter this was.

The man stares back equally serious.

“What would happen to you? Are you in some kind of trouble?” Bruce asks.

Danny shakes his head hard.

“I’m not into drugs, Bruce. Or a gang or gambling or anything like that okay? I don’t owe any debt someone’s coming after me for. I just need insurance, some piece of mind that if something did happen that meant I couldn’t take care of Tim, there would be someone to look after him.”

Bruce stares back, thinking, for several moments.

“Tim has parents, Danny, I don’t know what you expect me to do. And what do you mean you take care of him? Don’t you boys have a caretaker?”

“Of course we don’t. We look after each other, but I’m the oldest. His parents are never home. I’m not exaggerating, they were in Gotham for only fifty-four days last year. They missed Tim’s birthday, holidays, everything. He’s still a kid, he needs someone to be there for him and if I’m suddenly gone then he has no one. Promise me that won’t happen. Promise me you’ll take him in, that you’ll figure out a way to keep him with you so he at least has Jason and you and Alfred.”

Bruce is silent for a while and Danny knows what he’s struggling with. He didn’t really want to use his trump card, but desperate measures.

“We already know who you are. You don’t have to worry about him finding out your secret.”

All traces of the Brucie mask drops at that confession and Batman analyzes him.

“How?”

“Tim is a really smart kid,” he just says with a fond smile. “He’s known for a while too, so you know he won’t go blabbing to the media or whatever.”

“What about you?”

“If I wanted to blackmail you, don’t you think I would have led with that? I don’t care what you do in your free time, but it’s not my business to tell.”

Danny shrugs and tries not to squirm under being scrutinized.

“Since you know who I am, if you are in trouble or ever need help, you can come to me.”

Danny blinks.

“Yea, that’s what I’m doing. So do you promise?”

Bruce nods once, very controlled.

“Yes. I promise you that I will take care of Tim Drake if anything happens to you,” the man vows solemnly.

Danny smiles back, shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you.”

When Danny somehow saves Jason from dying, and two months later goes missing, Bruce has to honor that promise while also tracking down the teenager to bring home to a very distraught Tim.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Kitsune + Child Reader

Imagine the most vain, deceitful, mischievous kitsune 

Infamous for killing hundreds of humans and even more unfortunate children

An actual evil menace 

He has been doing this for a good two centuries 

Already having earned his two tails 

Unfortunately, the wisdom of older age doesn’t seem to disparage him from terrorizing the kingdom’s outer edges

Almost omniscient there's no telling where he is or if he’s in disguise or if he’s been building fake relationships with others to lure them in

It’s scary but not enough to scare off children completely

Which leads to you

A nice life in nobility means you’re sheltered or at least given a nicer tale than most kids

But your family wasn’t without humble beginnings 

So the only real time you do find yourself playing in the great outdoors is then

“Hello, little one!”

He doesn’t bother to hide his fox ears or his flicking tails 

He finds children are easily interested in them

Looking up from the sticks you were playing with, you offer him a smile

He smirks to himself this is going to be too easy

After introducing himself with another fake name he moves along

“Come follow me into the forest, deeper inside we can play house together there!”

“Hmm no.”

“Yay–wait. Did you say ‘no’?”

“Yeah.”

Not entirely...different but different enough

He knows some kids treat their parent’s words as law

so this will take a little more convincing

“Actually I just don’t want to play house right now.”

This is fine

Most children need a little peer pressure to do what he wants

“Fine then. Guess we won’t be able to play together, after all.”

“Okay!”

What?! 

He watches as you skip further away from his direction flapping the sticks

How irritating 

You didn’t do a single thing he wanted you to

He excuses himself to blow off some steam aka drowning some fellow in the river

He tells himself to shake it off 

he still is the best at tricking kids

He proves this by devouring the soul of some other kid with all the same tricks that didn’t work on you

But even with a full stomach, he’s bothered

How dare you?

How could you?

He finds you again maybe not at your vacation home

This time he’s a bit more direct letting his mask slip a little 

“Come with me. Please? I’m so so scared!”

“Then I’ll just get my dad. If you’re so scared.”

“NO! I mean why won’t you? You seem so brave,”

“I don’t want to go in there. I’m wearing my garden shoes. I don’t want these ones ruined too.”

He gets so frustrated 

Going to his lavish shrine where lesser spirits serve him and other mischievous yokai often come to party to complain

“I can’t believe this child is making this so difficult! Sometimes I have such a hard time not just eating them out of spite!”

“Right? But it’s the whole chase that makes it fun!” an especially powerful Chochin raves

“True that and it's more delicious!” a Kappa friend of his toasts 

It isn’t until he listens to a Yuki Ona who really makes him think

“Children bring a warmth like none other. Caring for one is an adventure.”

He remembers that when he starts to watch you again

Finally noticing the quirks that make you the way you are

What foods you like

How you like to be put to bed

It all starts to make sense to him but he still stays

He watches

And he waits

For what he doesn’t know 

He just waits

Sometimes he’ll step away to feed on an adult he comes across or an especially bratty child

Comparing them to you as he picks his teeth

He only really notices when there's a break in your routine

Part 2: Here

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Graphic depictions of illness; allusions to major medical procedure; accidental violence (m on f); allusions to child abuse

A/N: Finally. I make no excuses and a lot of apologies. Daryl is going through it right now but it's not just my normal whump. Reader gets to find herself again. I say that as vaguely as possible but you'll see at the end and in coming chapters.

A day and a half. A full fucking thirty six hours. The group still hadn’t returned. While it was logical to be concerned for their safety, you just couldn’t seem to look any further than the man on the bed no more than a foot in front of you. His fever raged and his breathing deteriorated, shallow rattles and painful fits of coughing. Still, those were less distressing than the moments he would wake, not remembering where or when he was. 

During one such episode, you had been a peer from school. An innocent girl who had followed him home one day to catch crawdads in the creek behind his house. His one friend that he had to hide in the crawlspace until he could get his father to beat on him instead of looking for you. He didn’t have any friends. You were special, he said. The bruises were worth it. 

Of all the ways to get Daryl to talk about what had happened to him, this wasn’t what you had expected. 

To make matters worse, he had become violent, waking in a rage that no one could understand. He was swinging punches and trying to leave the bed, Lori holding you away from him while Hershel of all people tried to subdue him alone. It was the grating of his own voice against his throat that had brought on the coughing, the force of which had eventually tired him out. 

You had appreciated the concern but had asked Lori not to come between you and Daryl again. Though she had retreated in a huff, Carol later assured you that she was only concerned for the safety of you and the baby. She wasn’t angry and she wasn’t judging Daryl for something over which he had no control. 

Things were quiet at the moment. You hummed and carded your fingers through the archer’s hair. He had been sleeping without interruption for a little over an hour, but his breaths were seeming even more labored. 

You were beyond exhausted. Two or three hours of sleep, barely eating between bouts of nausea, you were nearly to the point of being confined to that sickbed right alongside Daryl. 

“How’re the patients?” 

You didn’t lift your head, only your eyes. “Baby and I are fine. Daryl sounds worse than when you were here earlier.”

“Let’s take a look at you two and then I’ll examine Daryl.” 

There was no point in arguing. You didn’t have the energy. Sitting up straight in the chair, your back protested from the time spent bowed over the edge of the mattress, but you continued the journey to relax against the backrest. Your hand never released Daryl’s. 

Hershel motioned toward your sweater in a silent request for permission and received a mumbled knock yourself out in reply. Baby Dixon was still for the moment after hours of kicking and rolling and seemingly trying to fit a foot between your ribs. The veterinarian smiled gently upon removing the stethoscope and rolling down your sweater. You were grateful for the small gesture, likely would have left it up if he hadn’t taken the initiative. 

“Heartbeat’s strong. Seems to be doing just fine according to my limited knowledge. You really should get some rest yourself. Eat something, drink more.” His stethoscope was already nearing Daryl’s chest when you noticed it; the twitch of a hand before fingers curled into a fist. 

“Daryl, no!” You weren’t meaning to hurt the old man, inwardly wincing when you heard the thud of his body hit the floor. You were just quick enough to shove him out of the way, Daryl’s fist barely grazing your cheek instead. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s Y/N. You’re sick.” You kept your voice soft, right next to his ear, holding him firmly in a way he couldn’t escape in his weakened state. 

“Hershel! Y/N!” Carol and Lori burst into the room, Beth just behind them. You heard the girl begin to cry and tend to her father but the other two were quiet. 

“Where—dunno—can’t think—”

“I know, Daryl. It’s the fever.” He was coughing into your shoulder, his skin hot and dry where it touched yours. “You’re safe. I’m here. Thumper’s here.” The archer made a sound in his throat and by some miracle, you knew what it meant. Otherwise keeping your hold on him, you fumbled for his hand and pressed it firmly to the side of your belly. “Feel that? You woke them up too.” Your lip was wobbling, your voice threatening to do the same. “They just want their daddy to rest now so they can too. How ‘bout it, hmm?”

You pulled back slowly, steeling yourself for whatever it was you would see in his eyes. You almost whimpered when there was nothing short of exhausted recognition. 

“D’I hurt—” 

Your cheek burned and felt wet, but you shook your head. No, you wouldn’t tell him while he was like that. “I tripped. Face-planted. You definitely would have laughed.” He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious, but thank heavens for Thumper and a well placed punt straight to Daryl’s palm. His reaction was sluggish, head bowing to watch his hand rub circles over that spot. 

“Hey, kid. Go—easy on—your mama.”

“How about you go easy on their mama too and drink some water for me?” With your hand behind his head, you slowly guided him to his mountain of pillows. “Just a bit, okay?” He gave no answer. His palm continued to caress your bump. You wondered if he would still be so affectionate once he realized you weren’t alone in the room. 

With one hand raising his head slightly, the other tipped the cup to lips. He didn’t drink as much as you’d hoped but it was something. His eyes were closed but his fingers remained steady, curling and straightening over where you could feel the ripples of movement. It was as if they could sense one another. Daryl was calm, only the cough moving him at all. The baby’s movements were gentle waves below his hand. 

You didn’t dare move, allowing him the comfort he likely didn’t even know he was seeking. If you were being honest, you were relaxing a little as well. With a sigh, both tired and contented, you slouched but stayed next to him. 

“Is he okay?” You asked, finally rolling your head toward the others. Beth and Carol were getting Hershel to his feet, Lori pacing behind them with an expression you just didn’t like. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” The man answered for himself, patting Beth’s hand so that she would release him. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, risking placing your hand over Daryl’s. When his fingers went still, you gently guided his palm back and forth over your belly. 

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. I should have been more—”

“He’s going to seriously hurt one of us.” Lori interjected, continuing her pacing. You shot her a warning look, eyes narrowing when she shook her head. “I understand this is out of his control, but this is Daryl and out of all of us, he’s hardwired for violence.”

“Lori, you should go.” You spoke quietly, not willing to disrupt any rest the archer might be getting. You could only pray that he hadn’t heard her careless comment. 

“We should just take shifts to come check in on him. You could rest and eat, we’d probably hear him cou—”

“Are you seriously suggesting I leave him alone up here?” Where the anger was coming from, you had no idea. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the concern for Daryl that was constantly eating at you. It hardly mattered, you’d made it clear that she was crossing a line. Your tone was dripping with venom. “Carol.” You beckoned, eyes remaining on Rick’s wife. “Please, take Lori downstairs before I say or do something I would definitely regret.”

“Come on, Lori.” You heard Carol say quietly, a heated glare continuing between you and the other woman as she was led from the room. Once the door closed, your anger dissolved as quickly as it had materialized. “Beth—Hershel, you know—”

“We know he’d never hurt any of us on purpose.” The girl said in that sweet southern tone of hers. “You neither.”

“Having two expectant mothers in one room with enough charged energy was just asking for an explosion of some sort. Now don’t you stress yourself over it any further.” As he neared, Hershel squeezed your shoulder. “Think you might be able to keep him from becoming agitated long enough for me to take a listen?” He lifted the stethoscope. 

You nodded with a sniffle, wiping away a tear. “Yeah. If you can go around, I have an idea.” The old man rounded the bed while you crawled up beside Daryl, gently pulling him onto his side and against your chest. Once situated, you pulled his hand back onto your belly, and though he didn’t move it, you felt him relax a little further into you. “Daryl.” You whispered into his hair. “Hershel’s gonna listen to your lungs. The stethoscope is gonna be cold but your skin is hot from the fever. I’m right here. And it’s just Hershel.” 

You carded your fingers through his hair while Beth leaned over you to clean the cut on your cheek, hands just as gentle as her father’s. There wasn’t so much as a flinch when the cold instrument pressed against the archer’s back. You paid attention to the his reactions—or lack thereof—but you also watched Hershel and the way his expression fell. It was then you knew he would tell you nothing good.

“His right lung is full of fluid. It’s hindering his ability to breathe normally. The cough is still productive?” You nodded slowly. “May I see?” Well, that was disgusting but Beth carefully pinched one edge of a cloth and carried it to Hershel. You didn’t care to have that ick on your fingers.

Your attention turned back to Daryl, his weight heavy on your side, chest rattling, cheeks flushed, and lips pale. When would the group be back? Were they okay? Should you plan to leave?

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You didn’t look up from stroking the archer’s cheek until your name was said again. The expression you were met with was grim. You had your concerns about the pink frothy liquid that accompanied the mucus. Fuck. You should have told Hershel immediately. “What is it?” 

“If I don’t do something about the fluid in his lung, it is possible he may—for lack of a better term—drown.” 

“When they get back—” He cut you off with a shake of his head.

“This can’t wait that long. We don’t know if—we’re not sure when they’ll return. I need to see if I have anything that I can use. What we were able to grab from the farm was extremely limited and even that has been cut in half with being on the road.” Hershel was mentally running through inventory as he began to leave the room with his daughter in tow, turning but not meeting your eyes. “I’ll need him awake for this.”

Start waking him up now. That’s what he meant. You were horrified. You had no idea how to thoroughly explain to Daryl what was going to happen, because you didn’t know. Why did he need to be awake? ‘Oh, you’re going to drown slowly if we don’t do this now.’ How badly would it hurt? 

“There’s a—time an’ place—to be pullin’ on—a man’s hair an’ this—ain’t it.”

You sputtered out apologies and let go immediately. “I didn’t even realize—I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t even looking at you, half lidded eyes blinking slowly and staring toward the wall. Your tight grip returned but this time on his bicep, pulling him more snugly into your side but easing when he buried his face against your sweater to cough. Gross, but what could you do?  “Daryl. Do you think you could try to—”

“Heard the—the old man. M’awake.” 

The two of you laid in silence, not necessarily uncomfortable but with the looming fear of what was to come and if could even possibly help him. Your fingers ran a trail up and down his arm while his hand splayed out over your belly, eventually sliding around to your side to shift you toward him. Face to face, you could now clearly see the exhaustion, the way the illness was slowly tearing him down, and the resignation in his eyes.

“I’m scared.” The words slipped from your tongue unbidden, and though his expression didn’t change, he brought a fiercely trembling hand to your cheek, hot against your skin.

“Me too.” The admission shocked you to your core. Daryl always strived to be strong for everyone. Hell, it was what led him to his current position in the first place, trudging on while ill just to make sure you and the group—mostly you—were fed. “Didn’t fall.” His thumb barely brushed the bruised cut on your cheek. “M’so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to speak but quickly turned his face into the pillow to cough harshly, the force rocking his body hard enough to jar your own. You twisted to reach for a cloth, shushing him when his hold grew tighter, openly displaying his discontent at the thought of you moving away.

With gentle swipes, you wiped his face and then the pillow, folding the fabric before laying it above your heads for easy access. 

“I don’t wanna do this without you. Thumper needs their daddy. And,” you swallowed, face crumbling and tears stinging your waterline, “I need their daddy too.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Why the hell was he comforting you when he was the one being ravaged by an illness that would have been easily remedied in the old world? You really were weak, dependent. Where was the headstrong woman that had shown no fear on her own during the first days of the turn? “Stop—stop lookin’ at me—like m’already dead.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling away abruptly to cover a fit of barking coughs that left him groaning, face lined with pain while he gasped and heaved to catch his breath.

You had no chance to offer him any sort of comfort before there came a knock and Hershel entered, Carol at his heels. “We have what we need. Well, what can be used in place of what we need.” He held some sort of thin tubing, a syringe, and a plastic mixing bowl, while Carol carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, some gauze, tape, and a knife. Even with your wide eyes displaying a naked fear, Daryl never turned to look. “Is he awake?”

“Get it—get on with it.” He grumbled, weak but to the point.

Hershel merely shook his head with that fond smile he had developed toward your group since the farm. “Carol, could you sanitize the knife?” Seeing her pour a portion of the liquid over the blade made your stomach turn, or maybe it was your own illness rearing its ugly head to take advantage of your weakened state. Regardless, you looked away, finding Daryl’s eyes on your own. “First, I’ll need to find the right spot. You’ll have to be completely still for this, son.”

“Yeah, okay. Got—got it.” The archer wheezed. In your peripheral, you could see the veterinarian’s arm moving, pressing and counting the ribs in search of the correct site. Daryl was rigid, his eyes squinted but remaining open and focused on you with the occasional flitting down to where your swollen belly pressed against him. His hand fisted into the fabric of your sweater on your hip.

“Okay, I’m going to—”

“Just do—just do it for christ sake.” 

The old man was still behind him for a moment, long enough to draw your gaze to his. He nodded, a silent request for you to do what you could to keep Daryl still and compliant. Drawing your eyes back to the dull blue that was watching you with such intensity that you felt crushed under the weight, well, that must have been enough for Hershel to continue.

Daryl made a noise in the back of his throat, the slightest spasm of pain indicating that the knife had pierced his skin. Hershel and Carol were moving behind Daryl, communicating through whispers and gestures while you felt Daryl’s arm begin to shake, your sweater pulling tight against your body.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good, Daryl.” 

His eyes suddenly clamped shut, your sweater rising away from your hip when he twisted his fist. The seconds felt like minutes that felt like hours of watching him tremble with fever, weakness, and restraint. Finally, there came the blessed sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the plastic bowl. 

“Catheter is in place as best I can tell. We’re getting fluid. Don’t hold your breath, son. Nice and slow.”

You could tell he was trying, each breath a wheeze laced with pain. Slowly, you moved your hand from his arm to his face, just brushing your fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “We need to start thinking of names, you know. Thumper is cute but the baby isn’t a rabbit even though they feel like one sometimes.” Daryl’s eyes opened, tears pricking at the pinched corners. You knew he couldn’t answer you and so did he, probably couldn’t even if he tried. “I try to picture what they may look like. I hope they look like you, big blue eyes and maybe even a permanent scowl so that when they smile, it’ll be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.” You thumbed away a tear that escaped down across the bridge of his nose toward the other eye.

When his throat spasmed, you thought maybe he was going to be sick but then he began to cough, loud and agonizing and dry. Your wide eyes found Hershel’s, the calm in the old man’s gaze fizzling out your terror.

“It’s okay. Just keep him still. The coughing forces out more fluid. It’s almost over.”

As painful as it was for Daryl, it was agonizing for you to watch him suffer with no way to help him. “It’s almost done. You’re doing great. Stay still and stay awake. Can you look at me?” He answered with the smallest of nods, an almost imperceptible movement. Carol moved closer to Hershel. It was torture to not know what they were doing out of your sight but at the same time, an immense relief. The zip of tape being pulled and torn was surely a sign of the procedure coming to an end.

But it was when Daryl drew in the deepest breath you had heard in two days that you felt yourself relax, truly and utterly just drain of tension, placing your forehead against his. “It’s over. Just rest now.” You focused on his even breaths, just the slightest wheeze, the barely audible rattle. He was limp against you, his hand still tangled in your sweater but no longer holding on. The archer was exhausted and sleep had claimed him almost instantly.

“Hershel?” You need not ask anything. He knew.

“It won’t last long, but it buys us some time. The incision was deep but small. I will examine him in a little while, make sure it stays clean. In the meantime, listen for any struggles with breathing. Let him rest.”

You nodded, your forehead brushing against Daryl’s. The used supplies had been gathered and the old man had already made his way downstairs. You caught Carol’s eye as she started to close the door.

“An hour.” You stated flatly.

“What?” The other woman stepped back into the room, her brow drawn.

“I’m giving them one hour. If they’re not back, I want the list and I’m going. There won’t be a discussion.” No room for argument. “You sit with him while I’m gone. You’re the only other person he really trusts.” She looked as if she might object, but when her shoulders relaxed, you knew you’d won. With a nod, she left the room.

Without Daryl’s desperate attempts to breathe, it was so quiet, a sound you welcomed and reveled in so deeply. Hershel had opened a doorway and you’d be damned if you’d let it close. Moving your arm below his to wrap around him, low on his back to avoid the incision, you used the leverage to pull yourself as close to him as you could with baby Dixon barring the way. The archer didn’t stir. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you felt the fever still burning hot, only fueling your determination to get what he needed if the group failed to return.

“I don’t care what you say or what you think. I don’t care why you think I shouldn’t.” You spoke softly, a near whisper. “I love you. And I am not losing you.”

Of course you had fallen asleep. Daryl was resting comfortably, albeit still feverish. You were cozy beside him. You felt safe while simultaneously feeling like you were guarding him. It had been more than an hour, that much was certain. Hershel hadn’t given a timeframe regarding how long the treatment would help Daryl and you were taking no chances. It was time to take things into your own hands.

As fate would have it, just as you began to disentangle yourself from Daryl, there were frantic footsteps on the stairs. Fuck. Daryl was too weak to move if walkers had wandered into the area. The door burst open without a knock, revealing a breathless blonde teenager wearing a brilliant smile.

“They’re back!”

You stared. It was all you could do, your voice had seemingly decided it was in just as much shock as you were. Besides, she had already disappeared, leaving the door wide open. A sob worked its way up your throat but you blocked it with your teeth, looking down at Daryl as he slept. 

He would be okay.

The glare you had fixed on Hershel settled the maybe you should wait outside argument rather quickly. You weren’t leaving Daryl to be manhandled should he wake up confused. 

A herd had blocked their direct path back. Of course one had. Because the world was cruel and unforgiving and the dead were always hungry and always looking for a life to take. 

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were bringing up supplies while Maggie assisted her father with Daryl’s care. An IV was started immediately, after carefully searching for the perfect vein due to his state of dehydration. They didn’t have the cannulas to waste. Fluids were started right along with a bag of something called Azithromycin—an antibiotic, Hershel had said. They had scored several bags of each, along with a few other things that could be used for injuries or illnesses. But when they brought up the oxygen tanks, you could have sobbed.

The nasal cannula placement was what finally woke Daryl, bloodshot eyes scanning the room before you saw the first signs of panic. “Ssh. It’s okay.” You slid your hand under his and squeezed his fingers softly. “They’re back. Just let Hershal do his thing, okay? And then I’ll chase them all out. I promise.”

You were so relieved to see his usual scowl shift into place, even if it was somewhat diminished. “Fine.” He rasped.

“Good. Now, since I have your attention—don’t touch that—” you swatted his hand away from the cannula, “take these pills.” Hershel wanted around the clock alternation of acetaminophen and ibuprofen every four hours to get the fever under control. 

With an utterance of something containing the word bossy he let you place the pills on his palm and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry while you sat there offering a glass of water. There was a look shared between you that would have been amusing had either you had the energy to laugh. “Thanks.” He whispered, his hand shaking when he accepted the water. He only took a couple of sips but you wouldn’t hound him just yet. The fluids were going and he likely would take a while to feel like doing much of anything.

“We’ve done everything we can do for now. Just need to keep an eye on those bags and hang new ones when they’re empty. Keep giving the fever reducers and, son, try to drink when you feel like. The sooner you’re taking in fluids on your own, the better.” 

“Leave that oxygen right where it is too.” Maggie added in a no-nonsense tone.

Daryl’s nod was sluggish, his chin almost staying on his chest during the gesture. The commotion, everyone moving, even while he did nothing more than take a couple of pills, had left him running on fumes. As promised, you were up, hand on your lower back to rub away the ache there as you used the other to shoo everyone out of the room.

Absolutely nothing was stopping you from crawling under those sheets with him and sleeping for four glorious hours. You had asked Carol to keep an eye on that. Thank heavens he was lying in the middle of the bed. The side with the IV needed to be avoided. 

Actually lying down with the intention to sleep, knowing Daryl was receiving the help he needed, you were just done for, already drifting off and somewhere between awake and asleep when you felt Daryl’s knuckles brush against yours. You took his hand without a second thought.

“Are you sure about this?” Carol asked, standing with you in the doorway of the bedroom. She was nervously glancing back and forth between you and Daryl. Aside from a few bouts of those harsh, barking coughs, he had slept the entire four hours and barely woke enough to choke down the pills before being pulled right back under. 

“I’m sure.” You secured your knife in the sheath on your thigh and wiggled Daryl’s gun holster a little to the side so it wasn’t gouging into the bottom of your belly. Your rifle was long gone and you weren’t about to alert anyone else to your plans by choosing a different weapon. So with both your bag and Daryl’s crossbow on your back, you were ready to head out.

“You don’t have anything to prove, Y/N. We’ve lived off less. There’s a little jerky left and we have some cans—”

“I’ll be fine, Carol. I’m only going to be a few hours and hunt small game. If I happen across a doe that I can lift, I’ll take that chance, otherwise, it’ll be squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, or opossums. Yum.”

“What do I tell him if he wakes up and asks for you?” She shifted nervously.

“The truth. We don’t lie. If he tries to come after me, knock him out or barricade the door.” 

She followed you to the top of the stairs but not down, staying close to Daryl as she had promised. “You really don’t need to go.”

“I do. I’m the only other hunter in this group. I won’t have him trying to go out sooner than he’s ready to make sure there’s enough.” You paused on the bottom step, staring at the door and then toward the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. Chewing your bottom lip, you climbed up two more so she could hear you without alerting the rest. “If I’m not back before his next dose, I’m headed west. That’s where they can look.” 

Carol looked so stricken and unsure so you offered her a smile, as she always did for you. Finally, she conceded. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: Don’t mind me, just tryna make Henry Hart fics for all you out there. This one is sad and I think a bit on the angst side.

Might be typos, be warned, but enjoy!

Pairing: Henry Hart x Reader

‼️PART TWO IS OUT‼️

Ring…

Ring…..

Ring…Ring….

‘Please leave your message after the beep..’

I sighed and clutched the phone tightly in my hand, as I spoke into the speaker phone. “Hey Henry, it’s me again. Where are you this is the third time your phone went to voicemail, just please call me.” I said, before hanging up and sat on my bed.

A soft knock could be heard on my bedroom door, before the person walks in, that person being my mother. “Still nothing?” She asked standing in the doorway. “Not even Charlotte? Jasper?”

I shook my head no, and she put a hand on my back. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to but since he’s not answering his phone why not go over to his house? Ask his parents where he could be?”

“I would, but I don’t want to sound like a bother.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, you just want to check on him. It’s a very special day for you too.” I nod in understanding, and stood up from my bed.

I have my mom a hug and thanked her, before grabbing my phone and left the house, heading over to his.

Not too long after I stood in-front of his house, and knocked on the door. To which his mom answered the door, “Sorry to bother, but do you know where Henry is?”

She shook her head ‘no,’ in response. “I thought he was with you.”

“No, he isn’t, I’ve been calling and texting. Nothing.” She furrowed her brows in confusion, before inviting me inside, calling her husband downstairs. “Have you seen Henry?”

“No, I thought he was with (Y/N).” He replied not having noticed me yet, until Siren pointed at me. “Oh… that’s not good, is it?”

She rolled her eyes before asking, if he could check Henry’s room for her. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, before he came downstairs. “He’s not here, but his window was open.”

‘His window?’ I thought, before standing up making a beeline to the front door.

“I think, I might know where he might be. I’ll give you guys a call.” They didn’t have a chance to respond, with how quickly I left the room.

It took a while, but I walked all the way to his job, ‘Junk n’ Stuff.’ I looked inside the window and it looked empty, it didn’t look like anyone was inside.

I tried opening the front door, and to my surprise, it was actually unlocked. I walked further into the store calling out Henry’s name. “Henry? Henry?? Are you here?”

No one was in the front of the store, so I walked behind the counter and obviously no one was there, but I looked away.

When I was just about to give up, I found something..

‘An evaluator behind the counter?’ I thought to myself. I didn’t know where it went or if it was even stable, but I was going to take my chances.

I pressed the button and waited for the elevator doors to open, and stepped in. I was pressed the down button it rapidly went down at an alarming rate and I fell to the elevator floor.

The elevator came to an abrupt stop, and I groaned.

‘This elevator definitely isn’t up to code.’ I sigh and stood up slowly, waiting for the doors to open.

I walk in and see a place, that I have never seen before. I scan the room, and to my surprise no one was here. I walked over to the camera/computer type thing, and reached down to press a button before I heard someone walking in.

I ran to hide behind the couch and waited.

“Come on, Schwoz. Do you really this’ll work?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is your third time trying to time travel, what makes you think this toaster with the antennas and tinfoil going to do?”

“It could, you just need to believe.”

“Keep trying, buddy.”

I listened in on their conversation, the guy I didn’t recognize, but the girl sounded a lot like Charlotte.

“Uhh..hello?” The guy said from behind clearly noticing that I was hiding.

“Who are you talking to?”

“This girl hiding behind the couch.” He said, and Char immediately went to check behind the couch and saw me crouched down.

“(Y/N)?” She asked and I stood up. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, I’ve been texting you, Jasper and Henry. What is going on? And where is he?”

“We’re back! You’ll never believe it, that movie was so good… oh man..” I seen Henry and Ray walk in from another exit in the room with buckets of popcorn and soda.

“Henry..” I exclaimed, furrowing my brows and folded my arms.

“It’s not me you’re sleepwalking and this is all a dream,” He says and started moving his hands in front of my face and I smacked his hands away.

“Henry!”

“Alright, I can explain.” He sighs, looking me in the eyes. “This a traveling circus and Schwoz is our Dumbo!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, at least let me be the clown, I have the outfit and everything!”

“Henry! The truth!”

“Okay! Okay. Truth is Ray and I, we’re Captain Man and Kid Danger.” He says.

“I already know that, Hen.” I replied and everyone had their eyes wide.

“You knew?!” They already screamed in unison, and I look at them as if they’re crazy.

“How could I not know?! You sound like Kid Danger, look like Kid Danger. Let’s not forget that you happen to disappear when they’re both in any form of Danger.” I replied watching as the others sat down at the table watching me and Henry over some half eaten popcorn.

“So, if you already know, then what did you want me to tell you?”

“You really don’t remember do you?” I asked, watching him scour his brain trying to figure out what today way. I take out my phone and show him a video of us when we made it official, a year ago.

“It’s our one year…” He mumbled, looking up from my phone, as Ray audibly went ‘oooo,’ as if he was watching a telenovela.

“And you ditched me for a movie? One you can see when it comes out on dvd and blu-ray?” I exclaimed.

“No!”

“Oh, yes he did, girl.” Ray said shoving popcorn in his mouth, as if it was more entertaining than the movie they watched.

“Not on purpose! I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You can’t just make up a first year. You only get one of those, and we didn’t get to celebrate it!”

“You tell him, girl.” Ray said, and Henry looked him trying to get him to stop. “Ray!”

I shake my head taking my phone from him, going back to the elevator, and stepped inside. “(Y/N) wait, please.”

“Not right now, please? I just want to go home.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to be alone right now. I’ll let your parents know you’re okay.” I press the buttons to close the doors and rested my back again the one of the walls and took a deep breath.

I called Henry’s parents on the way home and let them know he was fine. As soon as I got to my home, I laid down on my bed. Ignoring anyone that tried talking with me, just waiting for sleep to overtake me.

[gwen-novella]

Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet

Pairing: Ivar x female reader

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: Smut (18+ !!!), it's a nsfw alphabet so expect all things sex, all kinds of kinks, no use of y/n

Summary: A nsfw alphabet for our favorite boy that's only soft for you. Can be read as part of TPAW.

Author’s note: I have reappeared from my hiatus. I decided to finally try my hand at writing fanfics again and thought I'd start off with something short and easy - ended up writing 3.5K words anyways. Mission failed successfully. Please excuse if my writing is a little rusty.

Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!

(*) smár brandr = little blade

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Anyone that knows Ivar and has seen the two of you together will notice that he is uncharacteristically open, affectionate, and kind to you. Whenever this is pointed out to you, you always struggle to hide an amused snicker behind a bashful smile. If only they knew. 

The two of you lay entangled on the bed. Your left leg is thrown over Ivars midsection and your arm traces invisible shapes on his chest. Ivar is laying on his back, his left arm lays underneath your body and is stroking up and down your back. Both of your breathing has calmed by now and with the gentle hum of satisfaction in your veins you’d be perfectly content to stay like this forever. 

The almost meditative state you’re in is broken when your left hand is halted in its movements, now gently held in Ivars right. Tilting your head up to look at him, you meet Ivars gaze and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you shy away. "I treasure you, smár brandr." (*)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ivar doesn’t give much thought to his body. For quite obvious reasons he avoids it as much as possible. He does like his hands though. He’s quite good at using them, whether that be spinning a dagger or wrapping them around your throat. 

Ivar has also become more accepting of the rest of his body as your relationship progresses. How could he not, when you hold his face in your hands, your delicate fingers tracing his features, when you constantly compliment his strong arms and back and when you don’t even bat an eye at the sight of his legs.

When it comes to you, there isn’t a part of your body that Ivar doesn’t like. Though he has a strange fascination with your neck. Kissing it, biting it, but especially wrapping his hand around it. It’s not so much the choking itself that turns him on - but the trust you show him when you allow his fingers to slowly tighten around your throat. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Further elaborated under K = Kink, but Ivars favorite place to cum is deep inside you. "Where I belong", he’d once told you, caressing your lower stomach. However, when the night is still young and he plans to make the both of you cum several times, Ivar enjoys watching you swallow his cum.

Ivar’s sat, fully clothed, at the edge of his bed, his unfocused eyes gazing down at your kneeling form on the ground, your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. You’re sat between his legs, one hand stroking along the length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, the other underneath your skirt, drawing circles over your clit. 

You can tell Ivar is close, his breathing labored as his cock throbs against your eager tongue. His arms move from their place at his side and you’re certain he’ll pull you off him and toss you on the bed, as he does so often, but his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tightly and aiding your movements. 

"I’ll cum down your throat", he raps, sending a bolt of arousal through you, "and you won’t dare swallow until I tell you to."

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you and Ivar first slept together it was you who took the lead to begin with. And even though his touches became more confident and urgent throughout, they were clearly still laced with inexperience until they weren’t. 

"Your eyes snap open as you feel a finger drawing circles on your clit, looking down to see Ivar has taken one of his hands off your hips and is instead circling your sensitive nub with his thumb. How he knows to do this, you do not know, but you are thankful for it, already feeling the coil in your stomach tightening."

Ivar would rather spend the rest of his days locked in a shed with an ever-singing Sigurd than admit that he knows those things because he had watched some of his brothers with Margrethe. Looking back, he is deeply embarrassed. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

None. Well, that is if you don’t count his horrid encounter with Margrethe (which you don’t). You were the first woman he ever slept with. 

Don’t worry though, Ivar is very quick learner. Whether that includes learning alongside you, if you’re equally inexperienced, or learning from you, if you’re more experienced. If the latter is the case, expect your prior partners to have some less than pleasant encounters with Ivar.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It very much depends on his mood. If he wants you to take charge: cowgirl. 

He’ll either sit back against the headboard or lay down flat on his back to watch you bounce and circle your hips above him. Don’t think him to be a passive participant though. Much like his eyes, his mouth and hands won’t stop wandering. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving evidence of the nights activities on your skin for all to see, sucking and biting on your nipples until they’re sore and whispering the filthiest of commands and praises.

Every tilt of your hips grinds your clit against his pubic hair, sending sparks up your spine. So caught up in your pleasure you don’t notice Ivars hand moving until it’s slipped its way around your throat, making your eyes flutter open once more. When had they even closed? 

"Look at you", Ivar groans, "riding me so well, smár brandr." Using his hand to tilt your head down to look at him, Ivar fixes you with his piercing gaze. "Mhm", he hums, "Like a goddess… or a whore." The hand around your throat tightens. 

If Ivar is in the mood to watch you squirm underneath him (which is often) he’ll take you from behind, pressing you flat on your belly and draping himself along your back. 

If anyone has given him reason to be possessive, or jealous, expect to wobble your way around Kattegat the next day. Instead of gripping your throat, like usual, his hand will grip your hair in a makeshift pony tail, either pressing your head into the pillow, or raising your ear to his lips, making sure to tell you who you belong to.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans against the furs. Ivars hips pound into yours so deeply, you’re sure that you won’t be able to sit properly tomorrow. Suddenly your head is yanked from the pillows and you feel Ivars breath against the side of your face. 

"You’re mine", he hisses. "Mine to love, mine to kiss, mine to fuck." Nibbling along your shoulder Ivar promises darkly: "Tomorrow, when you’re not able to leave this bed, I’ll kill Earl Leif… Perhaps I’ll bring him here first. Would you like that, hm? Make him watch how good only I can make you feel?" 

You don’t even remember what the foreign Earl had done to anger Ivar, your brain not absorbing anything that isn’t the drag of Ivars cock along your walls.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ivar is a very passionate lover. As such he does really immerse himself into the act. It’s not so much that you’d call him serious in those moments, it’s just that he’s so zeroed in on you - the rest of the world could burn around him for all he cares. 

Sex is also a very vulnerable thing for Ivar. In your chambers, when it’s just you and him, he’s a very different man than the one most perceive him to be. Most people know not to intrude upon your little safe haven, at least if they want to keep all their limbs. 

Hvitserk learned this the hard way one night when in a drunken state he mistook Ivars room for his own. He had barely stepped a foot over the threshold when a dagger had already planted itself into the wooden frame next to his head.

In the afterglow of it all Ivar is probably at his most vulnerable and most relaxed. The two of you will cuddle, talk about everything or nothing at all and sometimes that includes laughing together.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As explained above Ivar tries to avoid thinking too much about his body. As such he doesn’t groom. His medical condition however has lead to him having impeccable personal hygiene, since his legs often need to be washed, moisturized and bandaged.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, Ivar is a very passionate and devoted lover. Most times this will express itself in a raw, sort of untamed way. Some may label this rough - the way his hands firmly grip your hips, the firm snap of his hips and the incessant way he kisses and bites anywhere he can reach can certainly feel like it. Everything he does though is born from love, from devotion.

Occasionally, he slows. Ivars passion become gentle and sweet, drawn out like strings of honey - seeking comfort in you.

You can feel the warmth of his release coat your walls, a pleasant hum of satisfaction in your veins, not as pulsing and exhausting as you’re used to. You make to raise yourself from Ivars cock, from his lap, to cuddle up beside him, when his hands that so softly caress your hips tighten for a split second. 

"Don’t move", Ivar whispers, the first words he’s spoken since he’s entered your heat. "I want to stay like this for a while." You don’t decline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Since Ivars relationship with sex started off the way it did, sex isn’t really about "getting off" itself. Don’t get him wrong, Ivar enjoys having sex, enjoys cumming, as much as any man. It’s just that he doesn’t crave for it, if it is not with you. 

Ivar doesn’t need sex - he needs sex with you. Ivar doesn’t need release - he needs release with you. If he can’t have you he doesn’t bother.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding Kink

Ivar never thought he’d be able to have kids. He didn’t even think he’d be able to fuck. When one fateful night with you led him to discover that he could in fact please a woman, sex was the only thing on his mind. For weeks you spent every night in Ivars bed, his head in between your thighs, your mouth around his length and his cock deep in your cunt. It was a comment from one of his brothers over breakfast that planted an even deeper desire into his heart. 

Ivar had teased Hvitserk for looking so tired, knowing full well his room was right next to Ivars and that Hvitserk had probably been kept awake by your squealing the night prior. It was then that Ubbe, in an attempt to prevent a fight, almost mindlessly commented: "Don’t fret Hvitserk. Not much longer and he’ll have put a babe in her belly. Then Ivars tiny room will no longer suffice and we’ll be rid of them."

Trust Kink (?)

Hear me out. Ivar’s never really had anyone he could trust completely, some he’s comfortable being vulnerable around. Likewise, he’s also never had anyone that trusted him, that willingly was vulnerable around him. And whilst it took a long time for your relationship to progress to this state, now that it has Ivar cannot get enough of it - this feeling of safety and belonging. 

As such, everything that reminds him of this, anything that is proof of this precious trust is an instant turn on for him. His hand around your throat, him caging you under his body, restraining your hands above your head, cutting your clothes from your body using his dagger… 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As explained, Ivar does not take kindly to his time with you being interrupted. Therefore his room it is.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Short answer: You. Long answer: Also you. 

As explained above, once Ivar realized he could have sex, there wasn’t a lot of holding back on his side. He was insatiable. Though, the thing that gets him going more than anything else is the realization that not only could he fuck you, but you wanted him to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you.

Anything beyond reddish handprints in the places he grabs you, love bites across your throat and chest and the wobble in your step the next morning is a hard no. Ivar cherishes the trust you two share - he’d never think of doing something to break it.

Sharing.

Even though, when possessive or jealous, Ivar sometimes talks about showing off how well he pleases you, it is all talk. He’d never consider someone intruding in such a vulnerable situation. Besides, you’re for his eyes only.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

"I can show you that there are other ways to please a woman too, if you so wish."

Ivar remembers you whispering those words against his lips the first time you were intimate together, gently reassuring him. After the first few times following that day, when his eagerness to feel your walls wrapped around his cock as fast as possible had slowly calmed from a raging fire to a steady flame, those words of yours kept echoing in his mind. You’d proposed it as an alternative, so technically there was no need for that now, but Ivars curiosity was peaked.

His breath is fanning over your lower stomach, Ivars blue eyes are looking up at you for guidance, between placing kisses on and nipping at your skin. 

"You told me you’d show me. I do not know how to make you feel good like this." A breathless laugh falls from your lips. "I promise to tell you if something does not feel good." 

Ivar huffs but relents nonetheless, his nips and kisses moving lower, a few of them straying to the inside of your thighs, before his tongue suddenly licks a broad stripe up your cunt. Something between a whimper and a moan tears from your throat and Ivar decides right then and there that he wants to hear that sound over and over and over again.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As explained under I = Intimacy, Ivars love making is usually very passionate. If not fast, his thrusts will at the very least be hard and deep, hands firm on whichever part of your body he chooses to grab, his love bites just on that fine line between pleasure and pain.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it’s just that your circumstances don’t really allow for them. Between the daily bustle of Kattegat, your respective duties throughout the day and Ivars reluctance to have sex outside the safety of his chambers there aren’t really opportunities for quickies. 

It’s fine by the both of you though, you prefer to take your time anyways, especially the calm and intimacy afterwards is treasured by the both of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ivar is ever learning, he’s willing to try most everything you’d approach him with, so long as it doesn’t fall under his hard no’s. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

In the beginning Ivar was insatiable. Once he got you into bed you could expect not to leave it or go to sleep for quite a while. 

That is still the case, though the way you spend your time in bed has changed. The two of you used to go as many rounds as either of you could take until sleep took you.

As your relationship blossomed, it became less about sex itself and more about being intimately connected - whether that be foreplay, sex, or basking in the afterglow of it all. Rounds became fewer, but more drawn out. On the days Ivar seeks comfort, the intimacy of you laying on his chest afterwards, warming his cock, both of you speaking in hushed whispers have become his favorite part.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Since it’s the early 800s … there are no toys. The closest thing would be his daggers, perhaps some rope.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ivar has no patience to actually tease you in terms of withholding his physical affections. He excels at making your squirm with his verbal teasing though.

You’re circling your hips above him, eyes screwed shut, clearly focused on chasing your release, but slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure all the same. A sudden pressure makes you moan out and look down to where Ivar has placed his hand against the little bulge in your lower stomach. 

"Look at that", he grins, "Look at me all the way inside you. Such a little thing, can barely fit me." A frustrated whine bubbles up in you. Ivars face morphs into one of mock concern, "What’s the matter sweet thing?" "Please..", you whimper. "Please what, hm?" 

When his question goes unanswered, the rock of your hips only growing more frantic, Ivar sits up, the sudden shift of the angle of his cock making you gasp. "Can’t even make yourself cum, is that it? Poor, dumb little thing" A quick, filthy kiss is planted on your lips, and you don’t even have the time to reciprocate before your world spins and you’re suddenly on your back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

"I don’t growl." Ivar halfheartedly glowers down at you, you grin in return. "Oh, you definitely do."

"I do not."

Your grin grows mischievous, "Mhm, fine. I do suppose it was far more interesting how you whimpered when I li-"

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You joined Ivar in his bed every single night, following the day you first laid together. After a while your monthly bleeding made its appearance one morning. You thought this would surely put a temporary stop to your shared nights of passion, but Ivar surprised you. 

As soon as you sit down on the edge of the bed you’re ambushed. Giggling you let Ivar lay you down on your back and eagerly welcome him into your arms once he dips down to kiss you.

As always the kiss deepens and your hands wander - yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his silky strands, whilst Ivars hands caress your sides. When his fingers slip under the hem of your dress, you draw back from the kiss and halt his hand on your thigh. Immediately Ivars face furrows and his hand lifts to hold the side of your face. 

"My moon blood started this morning", you answer his unspoken question. Ivars eyes widen and he props himself up on his hands, lifting his hips off of yours. For a second you think he’s disgusted, but your worries disappear as soon as they come. "Oh fuck - am I hurting you, smár brandr?"

Pulling his body down onto yours again, his weight and warmth actually comforting, you shake your head. "No", you reassure him, "I’m just bloody. Some women say release eases their discomfort, but it’s not exactly… appealing to most men."

To your surprise Ivar barks out a laugh. "Some Vikings we have in Kattegat then, hm? Bothered by a little blood." Shaking his head, his hand makes his way under your dress once more.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

To quote TPAW:

"Looking down at what you have just undressed, you are surprised a second time this night. For all the burdens the Gods have made Ivar carry, they sure have blessed him with a gorgeous cock. Its head is flushed a lovely shade of red, and with a length and girth that promises a delicious stretch once inside you, it was simply perfect … and hard - very much so."

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. That’s all I am going to say. Sometimes the gods can see it all the way from Asgard.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re usually asleep before Ivar is. He very much treasures just laying with you. Tracing shapes on your back, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his and watching your pleased face lowly morph into the relaxed expression he associates with you sleeping.. this is probably the most peaceful time of his day. 

Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!

(*) smár brandr = little blade

[angelgoeslewd]

skirt.

🔮 summary: Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon, and Raphael love when you wear a skirt.

⚠️ warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, skirt wearing, AFAB! reader, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, spell sex.

DIAVOLO:

if there’s one thing good about entrusting your heart to the leader of the Devildom, it’s that Diavolo will never, ever, hide anything from you. this includes how worked up he gets when you he sees you in your school skirt.

he’ll hug you from behind in the morning, as you try and get ready for your classes, telling you if you’re dressed like that, better not to even leave the bed at all, his hand trailing up your thigh, ruffled the skirt up to your hip and flashing your panties at him.

you don’t understand it. you tell him countless times that he’s seen you in it before and this time should be no different, but he just can’t help him! the way it flutters around your thighs, how it rests perfectly on the curve of your ass, how he can nearly see the line of your panties… it drives him wild. expect him showing up in places just to get another look at you. and to make sure no one else gives you the same looks he does.

if he jokes about you sitting on his lap at lunch, DO IT. you’ll get to watch your perfect, eloquent prince freeze up and strain to create sentences. you can feel his cock pressing into you, and his face darkens with color and the promise to ruin you as soon as he can. you wonder if you’re in over your head.

he’s got you pressed up against the bathroom wall, strong hands on your hip, helping you press into his thigh as you grind on him. “That’s it, baby,” he whispers into your ear, “Wet those pretty little panties for me, let me see if drip down your thighs. I’ll lick it up for you after.” everyone else thinks you’ve gone to help Diavolo with human student affair matters. you aren’t sure this is what they had in mind. his cock presses into the front of your cunt, you reach for it, whining for something to fill you, but he grabs your hand away, shoving it above your head. “This is about you right now. Show me how naughty my pretty girl can get.”

make you cum on his thigh until it leaks out of your panties. he’s a cruel lover sometimes. he gives you a kiss and tells you to enjoy the rest of your day, he’s got to go back to the castle since Barbatos is finally forcing him to do work.

you’ll still be fucked into the bed tonight, but if you want your night to be non-stop from the time Diavolo gets home and rips the skirt in two, right off of you, to the next morning, text him ‘updates’ of your pussy with an upskirt view. Barbatos will not appreciate how much Diavolo rushed all his work though.

SIMEON:

you? in a skirt? that’s one way to ensure this man is all over you. Simeon isn’t one for PDA, preferring to keep all your shared, loving touches for when it’s just the two of you, but when you wear a skirt, he just can’t help himself.

it exposes your soft legs, gives him memories of the night before, having them tossed over his shoulder, his hand gently holding them, leaning his head over to kiss them as he rocks into you, guiding you to your orgasm.

his reserved nature doesn’t allow him to say anything to you on the matter, but you definitely notice how he glances at your ass you more frequently during those days, making up excuses to having his hands pressed to your thighs — “Oh, this problem isn’t correct,” he murmurs, leaning over you and using your leg for stability. he tries to distract you from his caressing by going a little too in depth on the answer, but you know your boyfriend by now. you can tell when he wants something, and smile coyly, playing along while your own hand rests on his, guiding it up your skirt further.

his face colors as you get more bold, spreading your legs when he reaches your panties, letting him feel the sticky wetness that he’s created. the library around you two are none the wiser, when his fingers push the thin fabric to the side and press into you slowly. it’s a sleepy pace, Simeon being cautious and inexperienced, but the heat in you is slowly building with his unwavering enthusiasm, the way he presses his fingers deep in you, pulling out only to rub your clit, almost as if telling you he owns this part of you, this pleasure he creates.

when you’re close, grab his wrist and gasp his name. the things he will do to you when he sees your slick drip out of you onto your skirt as he pulls his fingers out of you will be unimaginable, even for him. his gaze pins you to your chair, you’ve never seen such a look on your boyfriend’s face. such desire, such… heat. he’s smiling and asking if you’re ready to go home, but you can tell he’s on the verge of cracking.

you’re lucky Simeon has the willpower to get home and take you as soon as he gets you into the bed. you’ll never know how he almost pushed you into an alley, pulled out his cock, and stroked himself until he came all over that pretty little skirt of yours.

SOLOMON

the second most obvious one. I’d call him the first, since he’s the most bold, telling you straight up how much he likes you in your skirt, but Diavolo is more obvious when it comes to how it affects him.

Solomon sees this as a challenge. a game between you and him to see who can break first. which is why he’ll tell you in the first place, to be honest. he wants to see your cheeks flush when he leans down and whispers his crude words to you in the lunch line, the teasing, dangerous undertone of his unsaid promise teetering on the verge of being a threat.

he is the most touchy of them all, not even trying to hide how he gets his hands all over you, maybe to your embarrassment. when mammon is calling him out on it, it’s a lot. he tells the demon to mind his own business and to stop looking at his darling apprentice in such a manner, but doesn’t make any move to keep his hands off your waist and to himself.

will flip up your skirt. only does it when he’s the only one behind you, but does it to get a reaction out of you. you’re seeing a pattern here. when Solomon wants attention, he gets absolutely unbearable. whether it’s his underhanded comments, being physically a nuisance, or the way you can tell he’s planning something, it’s really up to you how long you want to let this go on. want to try and make it through the school day? sure, but it won’t be easy with your sorcerer interjecting himself into everything you do. the more you try to ignore him, the harder he’ll try.

want a way to get him back? ask him to try his new spell out on you, watch his eyes light up with delight at your suggestion, and sit back to enjoy the show. if you can.

see, being a sorcerer, you sometimes come across magic that was simply made for the user’s pleasure and have almost no way to test it out. of course, when he has you…

being able to feel your cunt around him, despite being across the room from you. it’s exactly the payback he deserves. you can watch him strain to keep a level expression, his jaw clenched as he feels your wet heat holding him securely. you can feel a phantom of a cock throbbing inside of you, wondering if you’ll make Solomon come in his pants. shift around to watch him try and stifle groans at your action. he’s a bad sport, however, and if he starts to lose, he quickly dissipate the spell.

it’ll only keep him at bay for a small time, however, and while you can keep doing it, Solomon is just going to get better at playing. he’ll turn it around on you quickly, so you better make arrangements to get him off or he’ll make you miserable.

and the only he’ll accept as an ‘apology’ for your behavior towards your ‘mentor’ is letting him cum in you and letting it leak out of you so it ruins your skirt.

RAPHAEL

whew, boy. here we go. there’s a good chance you never realize how your clothing choice affects your angel. mainly because Raphael avoids you. to the point of where you almost never see him throughout the day because he just leaves the room whenever he spots you. and no one calls him out on it because, well. it’s Raphael. no one knows what he’s thinking.

seriously? what the hell. he always does this when you wear skirts, too. and you’re getting rather sick of it, to be honest. you just want to at least SEE him. and treating you like a wild animal he has to be wary around isn’t very healthy of him, no matter what his problem is with you. ESPECIALLY when it’s coming from him, the celestial creature who makes demons quiver and whatnot.

cornering him is probably the only option. sometimes he has such a good poker face and is so good at turning tail that not even Simeon can help you. he tells you just to ask Raphael about it, since, “He probably won’t… can’t lie, to you, of all people.” whatever that means. so you have to go on an angel hunt.

so you do. it takes a while, but you find him in the gardens, sitting, attempting to read a book, you say attempting because you can tell he’s not having much success by the knit of his brow. you almost don’t do it, since he seems irritated enough, but work up your courage when he sees you and immediately closes his choice of material and tries to leave again.

“Really? You’re going to try and avoid me again?” he at least has the decency to look ashamed.

“I… I’m not avoiding you.” bullshit. he’s sweating. his one tell.

“So what do you call leaving every time I come into a room, then?”

“Trying to maintain my dignity.” what. the fuck. does that even mean. he can tell you’re flabbergasted, confused, and fed up with his behavior, so he sighs, finally giving in and sitting down on the bench. “When… you wear stuff like this,” he admits, shyly, dog-earing a page back and forth between his fingers, “It makes me feel. A certain way.”

you blink. oh. oh. so that’s why he…

you get it. he’s an Angel. you can’t expect that from him, not when his role is so dire to his world. it would be like asking him to give up his job, his very being for existence for you. you realize then why he was trying to distance himself. to excuse himself from such emotions for a human creature. you won’t see bad history repeat itself in the man you love.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I...” had such an effect on you. now that it’s out, you feel embarrassed at your rash actions, not even taking the time to consider what Raphael was going through. it’s the same reason why you hesitate at calling him your boyfriend, he’s got more on his shoulders then you could ever imagine, and you can’t ask him to give it all up for you. “I’m… just gonna go.”

his hand shoots out and grips your wrist at an impossible speed, his eyes widening at the thought of you leaving. it melts your heart and worries you all at once.

“No, no… you’re already here. And it wasn’t right of me not to tell you. It wasn’t fair. You should know,” he says, looking away from you as he adds, “And I miss you.”

your heart flutters, yearning to be close to him, and you let yourself sit next to him, daring to sit so close that your arms touch. “I missed you too. It’s why I was so upset. I thought you were angry at me or I did something wrong-”

“Nothing like that,” he murmurs, picking his book up again. he flips to a random page, but after a while of sitting and enjoying his company, you can tell he isn’t reading. he keeps glancing at your legs, your skirt dipping where you’ve spread them slightly to make yourself comfortable.

“Raphael…?” his eyes flicker up to meet yours. you didn’t realize the extent of his words. it’s almost smoldering, how much heat and desire fills his ocean eyes. it runs through you as deep and as quick as his spear could, the threat of something equal parts dangerous and exciting. you can’t help yourself, wanting to indulge in this emotion from him that you don’t get to see very often. you reach over slowly, closing his book, letting your fingers linger on the edge. his lips are inches from yours, hot breath fanning over your own.

there’s no one around to tell if he breaks.

[psst . . . if you liked Raphael’s part and want more, there’s a continuation here!]

[chatterbox-73]

Kinktober 2024.

Day 24 - Hand job.

Itachi Uchiha x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Part two - Home Sweet Home (coming soon)

A/n: AU where the Uchiha slaughter didn’t happen, because our man ain’t no mass murderer…

Summary: Itachi is hiding in his bed after struggling to find a place to live and after you comfort him, you find he’s has another problem that pops up and he lets you help with this one as well.

Word count: 1.7k

CW: NSFW and adult content, hand job, underlying feelings for each other, nipple play, fondling breast, implied virgin reader, cumming in hand, and almost getting caught.

“Hey is itachi home?” You asked Mikoto once she answered the door, she smiled at you and nodded “yeah he’s in his room resting… I don’t think house hunting went well” she stepped aside to let you in.

You knew Itachi’s father was unintentionally pressuring him to move out and was in turn having trouble finding housing, Itachi didn’t want to live in the Uchiha estate, but he really couldn’t stand living with his family anymore and not because he hated them or anything, he really didn’t, it’s because he wanted to experience being an adult.

“I’ll go talk to him, hopefully I can get him to stop being so picky” you smiled and walked towards his room, you knock on Itachi’s door “hey I’m coming in, so don’t be naked” you called out as you walked in.

Once you entered the room you noticed Itachi lying in bed looking at you, “wow you look pathetic… all this over some housing” you walked over to his bed and softly kicked him.

“Oh come on, stop wallowing in self pity” you said while giving Itachi another soft kick, “that easy for you to say, you have your own place” he grumbled and rolled over so he was facing the other way.

“Hey I did say you could come to live with me, and you know that offer still stands” you careful got into Itachi’s bed with him and he looked back at you as you pulled the blanket over yourself before turning back, “it’d be weird living with you” Itachi sighed and you faked shock.

“What? How would it be weird? We’re best friends, I’d be the best person to live with until you get your own place” you poked Itachi’s back as you explained, Itachi was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

“What if I wanna bring someone home?” He questioned with his back still facing you, “Itachi I’m a grown woman and you best friend, I know how to take a hint” you laughed out, “and what if you want to bring someone home?” He finally turned to face you.

“I know that you’re smart enough to take the hint” you raised a questioning brow, “and if you want them to move in?” Itachi questioned further, “they’ll stay in my room with me, you’ll obviously have your own room Itachi” you chuckled and shook your head.

“Okay, and if I don’t like them, what then?” Now it looked like Itachi was trying to find any excuse to not live with you, “I’d break up with them, there’s no point being with someone my best friend doesn’t like” you sighed and as you were about to continue on talking Itachi interrupted you, “you’d choose me over a lover?” He’s voice was soft and he looked so surprised, “well don’t acted so surprised, you are someone really dear to me and I trust your judgment wholeheartedly” you smiled and watched as Itachi started to form a smile.

“Now will you stop making excuses and move in with me?” You questioned and Itachi nodded, “yeah I’d like that” he leaned in you hug you.

You both lie in the bed, with your arms around each over, before you start to feel something poking your leg and you slightly pulled away from Itachi, “what’s wrong?” He asked “something’s poking me” you said and started to look under the blanket, “wait, don’t look there!” Itachi tried to stop you.

However he was too late you could already see the bulge straining against his pants, “Itachi, is that… are you… did I?” You couldn’t even finish a full sentence.

No matter how close of friends you are, Itachi is a very attractive man and right now this very attractive man is lying in bed with while he has a raging hard on, “I… I… I…” Itachi stammered before looking away, “yes… yes to all of it” his face went red and so did yours, “I made you hard?” You asked moving in close again and Itachi nodded.

“I’ve had feelings for you, for a while now” Itachi’s arms wrapped around you, “I like you too” you ran your hands down his chest all the way to the waistband of his pants, “can I touch it?” You asked.

Itachi nodded and pulled down his pants and underwear slightly freeing his erection, you wrapped a soft hand around it and started to pump him gently, “am I doing it right?” you looked Itachi in the eye and he moan out a yes.

Your hand continues stroking him as he pressed his forehead against yours and groaned quietly to you, he told you things like how beautiful you look and how he dreamed of the day you’d touch him, and prayed for the day you’d let him touch you.

“Can I touch your breasts?” Itachi asked groaning at the way your fingers tickled his tip, “I’ve never been touched like that, but we can try” you looked down at his aching tip, before looking back to his eyes and Itachi hummed in agreement while he unzip your vest and lift you shirt.

Itachi’s hands softly gripped your breasts before he started moulding the squishy flesh with his slender finger, you moaned as his finger tips pinched and tickled your nipples.

Itachi began kissing your lips, then you neck and down to your chest “can I suck on them?” Itachi looked up into your eyes and you nodded as you bit your lip.

Itachi took your right nipple into his mouth and started off suckle gently, but quickly got rougher and more greedy, you pressed you face into the top of Itachi’s head and moaned breathless at the pleasure he’s giving you.

As the pace of you pumping Itachi speeds up, he bites on the fleshy part of your breast and begins to start thrusting into your hand at a desperate pace. “Oh y/n… y/n… y/n- wait… wait!” Itachi chanted as his hips falter but you keep pumping him, until he suddenly came all in your hand, “I’m so sorry” he reaches over you to grab a tissue off his nightstand.

Itachi grips your hand and wipes it off before putting the dirty tissue back on in his nightstand, “it’s okay, I enjoyed myself” you smiled, “I wanna do more stuff like that in the future” you told him and he nodded before leaning down and kissing the bite mark on your chest.

You moan softly at the sensation of his lips on you and ran your fingers up through his hair, “let’s do more now” Itachi said as his hand trailed down your front and you nodded “yeah, please touch me” you moan, Itachi fingers slipped under your pants and panties, just as he began to rub your opening with an eager finger tip there was a harsh knock on the door.

Both you and Itachi scrambled to get decent, “hey Itachi you said you’d help me with training today” suddenly the door opened to reveal Sasuke, “what are you two doing?” He asked as you both sat on Itachi’s bed awkwardly and you chuckled “nothing, just talking about housing.” You smiled and Itachi nods frantically, before the teen gave you both a suspicious look.

Later that evening Itachi explained his plan to move into your apartment with you and the two of you would be living together, both Sasuke and Mikoto expressed their excitement however Fugaku didn’t quite share the same excitement as them, “isn’t this a little inappropriate, just the two of you… only lovers should live alone like this” he explained and Itachi sat up straight before he explained that you were in fact lovers, to this Sasuke’s expression turned sour and he glared at both of you, though it was quickly overshadowed by Mikoto’s wedding ideas.

Kinktober Masterlist (coming soon)

Day 23 - Kei Tsukishima: Degradation.

Day 25 - Shoto Todoroki: Washing Machine Heart.

[creepycranberry]

Same people, Different circumstances

Eddie Munson x mom reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, not proofread

You sat in the dark, covering your ears in search for some reprieve from the wailing. You had been crying too, for hours it had been like this.

You felt guilty for just letting her cry but you were so exhausted. She had a fever, she spat out whatever medicine you tried to give her, you had the noise machine on, you shushed and hummed until your throat was dry but nothing worked.

She wouldn’t eat or sleep or stop crying and it was becoming too much for you alone.

You didn’t understand moments like this. You had done all of this alone. You found out you were pregnant in a rest stop bathroom alone, you had gone to doctors appointments alone, sat in the bathroom puking by yourself, you set up the nursery alone, you drove yourself to the hospital and gave birth alone, every single step of the way you’ve done this completely alone.

Aside from your landlord, an old Cuban lady who spoke with a thick accent and watched Winnie while you went to work.

But she was away visiting family this week, so you were utterly and completely alone.

You hadn’t meant to call him, you meant to call your upstairs neighbor to see if they had a thermometer because yours had crapped out when you needed it most. But instead when the ringing stopped it was his voice.

“Hello?” A deep groggy voice mumbles into the phone and you hiccup the sob you had been working on keeping down so your neighbor wouldn’t be too concerned, “hello?” He asked again, much more awake this time.

“Eddie I didn’t mean- I called the wrong number, just go back to sleep I didn’t mean-“

“Is everything alright sweetheart?”

He shouldn’t be so sweet to you.

Sure you ended things on good terms but this wasn’t anything he should be worried about.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine.”

“Why are you crying?” He asks softly and you bite your lip to keep from crying more.

“She won’t take her medicine, and she won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do.”

“Who? Teddy?” He asks, referring to the tabby cat that was likely hiding under your bed.

“No- no. Um, Winnie, my kid. She has a fever and I don’t have a thermometer and she won’t take her medicine and I called you accidentally.”

There’s rustling over the phone and the muffled sound of a girls voice. Dammit.

“Eddie if you’re busy-“

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be over soon,” the jingling sound of his belt rings over the phone, “you need me to grab anything from the store or do you want me to just come right over or..?”

“Eddie really you don’t have to-“

“I’ll grab some take out too, be there in a minute.” And then the phone clicks off.

You go back into the nursery where a still wailing Winnie is sat up in the middle of her crib, covered in puke.

You feel guilty for stepping out to make the call and you have to work to keep yourself calm as you go to the crib to pick her up, shushing and apologizing as you head towards the bathroom.

You go through the motions of giving her a bath despite her fussing.

Your thoughts drift to your embarrassment over calling Eddie. You didn’t even know how it happened, maybe you still had him on speed dial or something?

And explaining to him that you called him over your kid who he’s never met or heard of is in your top ten most awkward moments.

But for right now you need to focus on your daughter.

You wash the puke out of her hair and the little rolls of fat on her legs and the crack of her neck and you try to softly shush her.

Just as you’re drying her off there’s a knock at the front door. You essentially swaddle her in her towel as you go to get the front door.

Eddie is standing there with take out bags in one hand and a handful of random things in the other.

“Hey.” You haven’t seen him in about a year. You both promised to keep in touch but life got in the way.

“Hi.” He smiles sweetly and moves further into the apartment. He sets down the stuff in his hands and Winnie momentarily quiets down when she notices a new presence in the room, “hi Winnie,” Eddie coos, hand moving to smooth down her wet hair, “I’m Eddie.”

“You really didn’t have to come over here, Eddie. I meant to call my neighbor but I guess I forgot to take you off of the speed dial on my landline and-“

“Don’t worry about it. I told you I’m always here to help and I meant it.” He assures you, reaching out to the baby to see if she’d rather go to him, which to your surprise she does, “hey girlie.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thermometer. He takes her temp and grimaces.

“I know you just sounded busy.” You shrug, heading over to the laundry basket on the couch to grab a onesie for her. You pluck a diaper off of the coffee table and much to Winnie’s chagrin you take her away from Eddie to change her diaper and dress her.

“I really wasn’t.”

“I’m not sure your date would agree.” You comment, velcroing the diaper closed.

“I didn’t realize you could hear her.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

You just shrug.

“Can you just hold her for a second while I change the sheets in her crib?”

Eddie nods, reaching out for the baby who has stopped wailing but is still fairly fussy.

You busy yourself with her sheets, grabbing the extras from her drawer and taking off the soiled ones. You try and breathe and not dwell on the oddity of the situation.

When you make it back out to the living room Eddie is attempting to feed Winnie a cracker.

“She’s too small for that, Eds.” You inform him and he jumps, holding the cracker away from the baby and taking a bite for himself to hide what he was doing.

“I-I know I was just-“

“Feeding her a cracker?” You smile and he begrudgingly nods.

“She just seems hungry.” He shrugs.

“She probably is but she won’t take a bottle. I’ve been trying on and off for hours.”

You lean your head onto your hands and close your eyes.

“Well how about you eat something and I’ll see if she’ll take a bottle from me?” Eddie suggests, propping the baby on his hip and heading for the bag of takeout on the coffee table.

“Good luck with that.” You mumble, rubbing your face to wake yourself up. Eddie heads for the pantry and pulls out the baby formula and a bottle. He makes a bottle with Winnie on his hip, humming a Bowie song to her as he shakes her bottle, “since when do you know how to make a bottle?”

“Steve and his girl had a baby a couple months ago, I’ll babysit every now and then when he needs me to.” Eddie shrugs, offering the bottle to Winnie who gives him and dirty look and shoves the bottle away, “well you gotta tell me what you want, girlie.” He tells her, and then the pouting starts. Her little bottom lip juts out and she looks at him like he just cut off her teddy bears head and he panics, holding her close and begging her not to cry, “come on, Winnie, don’t cry. If you cry your mom won’t ever let me come back and then I’ll cry and cry and cr-“

He smacks his head on the cabinet he opened but forgot to close and curses.

Winnie giggles and reaches up to where he hit his head and she pats it, a little harshly. Eddie frowns at her and then lightly pats her back on the forehead.

She laughs again and you smile, relieved after not hearing the sound for an entire day.

“You little sadist.” Eddie grumbles and walks her over to the couch, bottle still in hand. This time when he offers it to her she takes it, leaning onto his arm a bit more.

Eddie looks at you with a grin that never fails to make your stomach flip and you smile back.

“Your turn.” He nods to the take out and you groan.

“You didn’t need to bring food Eddie, the fact that you came here at all is enough.” You try and convince him but he isn’t having it.

“Well I’ve gotta make sure you eat too.” He shrugs and you sigh, opening the bag to find the logo of a Chinese place y’all used to order from all the time.

You frown slightly and Eddie panics a little, “did I get your order wrong? I could have sworn-“

“No. You got it exactly right.” You assure him, a tight smile gracing you features and Eddie shakes his head in confusion, setting Winnie’s bottle on the table and burping her.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just- it’s weird I guess.” You shrug, opening the takeout container and a plastic fork.

“What do you mean?”

“Just us. It’s just- we haven’t spoken in a year, I have a kid you found out about an hour ago and yet the second I call you you’re here, with food you know I love, my exact order, and you’re feeding and burping my baby and-“ and it should have been like this all along.

Eddies quiet for a moment, like he heard what you almost said and is trying to figure out how to react, “I mean circumstances are different but we’re still us. This is how things were before… us. If you need me I’m here and if I had called you before this you would have been there as well.” A pause, “right?”

“Of course.”

“So how did she happen by the way?” Eddie asks, changing the subject.

“Well you see, when a man and woman meet and have a few too many drinks almost every time they’re together-“

“Okay, okay, I get the picture.” Eddie grimaces and you lightly giggle, “is he around?”

“Not really. I told him and he asked me if I wanted him there and he was really practically a stranger and I asked if he wanted to be there and he answered honestly. And I told him that was fine. I don’t expect anything from him, he sends money every now and then but other than that she’s never met him.” You explain, lightly combing the babies hair with your fingers.

“Shitbag.” Eddie mumbles.

“He knew he wouldn’t be much of a father and he was honest about it. Would rather that than he feel obligated to stick around and make her life hell.” You shrug and Eddie nods.

“So you’ve done all of this alone?” Eddie asks and you nod.

“Pretty much.”

“That is so wildly unfair.”

You raise your eyebrows, a grin growing on your lips despite yourself, “It's nice to hear someone else say it.”

Eddie nods, standing up and cradling Winnie, bouncing her in his arms and pacing in an effort to get her to sleep.

“I really hoped she was yours at first.” You confess and Eddie's eyes widen, “don’t get too freaked out, I just knew that if she was yours I wouldn’t have to do it alone. And that maybe she could have some kind of dad figure.”

“That makes sense. We could pretend she was mine.” He smiles and you shake your head.

“Whatever, Munson.”

“No, I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be a big thing I’m just saying that like, if you need me to take her for a weekend I could take her for a weekend. And I could help when she starts school or when she’s sick. I can teach her to ride a bike and I can scare her first boyfriend and beat his ass if he hurts her and I could teach her how to check her oil and change her tires. And when she gets caught drinking I can pretend to be disappointed and help give her a really stern talking to.”

You laugh and nod, “maybe. I’m gonna let you think about what that kind of commitment would entail first though.”

Eddie smiles and looks down at a now sleeping Winnie, “she looks just like you.” You nod, “she’s got my eyes though.” He quips and you shake your head.

“Oh whatever.”

Eddie grins and you have to try your best not to feel that familiar ache in your bones.

He goes to the nursery and leaves you in the living room by yourself with your food. After a moment you hear the sound of a noise machine and the click of a door closing and then he’s back.

“You made that look so easy.” You grumble as he sits next to you.

“I’ve just got that fatherly touch, yknow?” You laugh again and he smiles. Not a grin, not a cheeky, mischievous smile. a content, comfortable smile that warms you in a way you’ve longed for since you broke up, “how’ve you been?”

You shrug, “I’ve been. If I keep moving I don’t have to think about how I am.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie asks, moving to face you so his knee is touching yours.

“Sometimes,” you shrug, “every now and then it gets stressful but a good day is a really good day.” Eddie nods, “what about you?”

He gets really quiet, “I’m not happy.”

Your face falls and you instinctively start repeatedly smoothing his hair behind his ear in the way you know comforts him, “what’s up, hon?”

“I just don’t have much anymore I guess.” He shrugs, “I don’t have much purpose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. I work and I try to meet new people but I just don’t feel like it’s worth it.” He explains.

“Why not?”

He’s quiet again, mulling over whether or not to give an honest answer, “because none of them are you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t- don’t think too much about it, like don’t read into it too much I just- you’re fulfilling for me. You held on and you helped and you gave me this sense of purpose that I haven’t really been able to get since…”

You stay quiet and wait for him to finish what he was saying but he doesn’t.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? I mean, just in case Winnie wakes up and would rather have you get her than me?”

Eddie just about melts. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and nods.

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Winnie.”

————————

Pt 2

[mari-the-bimbo]

Dorm mate Sukuna: when he’s sick

A/N: Happy Friday my loves!!! <3 it’s nearly the weekend so let’s start it with a bit of wholesomeness! Enjoy! 💗

Now it’s no secret that Sukuna is your personal driver, as well as dorm mate and boyfriend, he drops you off to college and picks you back up.

So it was part of the daily routine for you to either wake up early, ready for him to drop you off, or your lazy ass oversleeps and Sukuna has to wake you up. Today was one of those days.

You’re rudely awoken from your sleep as a harsh slap to your butt is given by the pink haired thug.

“Oi! Wake up you lazy cow or-“ but his threat is cut short as he sneezes. You snap out of your sleepy daze and notice the usually vigorous, muscular man looked slightly pale and unwell.

“Sukuna, are you sick?!” You asked in shock. Although someone being unwell isn’t a surprising idea, it was surprising when it came to Sukuna, considering you’ve never seen him sick.

“No” he says sternly as he saunters out your room, which was your second indicator that he was sick. The usual Sukuna would shamelessly suggested to watch you undress or would’ve tackled you to the bed for no reason. But it was obvious his usual playfulness was gone because he was tired.

“But you are sick Sukuna! I can hear you sniffing!”

“It’s coke!” He lies ridiculously, making you raise an eyebrow.

“No you’re not on drugs ‘Kuna, you’re just sick, I feel bad making you drive me to campus when you’re sick! Maybe I should stay at home and take care of you?” You suggest, making the man stop in his tracks.

You smile cheekily, knowing the pink haired man has a soft spot for you, and would do anything for your attention.

He turns around and leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, arms crossed against his broad chest. His tired red eyes boring into your own as he considered the offer.

“Fine” he said as you cheer, “but only if I get to use your butt as a pillow” he adds, a nasally laugh escapes him as he watches your face drop.

Nevertheless, the rest of the day went peacefully. First he slept on your butt for a few hours, as promised. Then he lay in your arms, moaning as you rubbed his muscular back for him.

Then after a few hours you made him hot chocolate. Now resting on your boobs as he drank the hot beverage. “Mm it’s good” he says as you hum happily while you traced his arm tattoos with a finger.

You look down at him to thank him and notice he’s already staring. “‘What you lookin at?” You say, imitating his voice teasingly. But he continues to stare at you silently, before his large tatted hand reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, “hmm you’re cute you know” he mumbles. You ears turned red in embarrassment but you give him a bashful smile nonetheless.

“I know” you reply cheekily.

“Do you know you’re also a cutie when you’re sick?” You tease, knowing the man’s easily hurt masculine ego.

His eyebrows furrow as he frowns, “don’t test me silly girl” he says firmly. “But you are!” you reply. “You’re like a cutie patootie teddy bear!” You exaggerate, further infuriating the unwell man, you reach out to boop his nose but he’s quick to grab your hand, and roughly pull it until you were pulled closer to him. His strong grip on your hand stays and he speaks “who teases their man like this when he’s sick huh?” He asks.

“Me” you reply, biting your lips to hide your smile but it was useless. Your smile is infectious as he returns his own tired sexy smile to you. “Don’t make me kiss that smile off your face y/n.”

“Hey don’t do that! I’ll get sick!” You warn with a laugh, but it’s not like Sukuna ever listened anyway. The pink haired male returned to his menacing ways as he immediately shot up, and grabbed your face in his large hands.

“Come here” he says in his deep groggy voice, shoving his lips onto your own, kissing you feverishly until you pulled away.

“See? I feel better now” he says, licking his lips, making you giggle as he lays his head in your chest once again. “I’m glad” you say as you play with his pink hair.

And as the brute drifted off to sleep while snuggled between your warm boobs, he made a mental note to be sick more often.

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"Please y/n, I've been so good"

After a hectic week at work, your aching body virtually melts into Jungkook’s warmth as his grip on your waist tightens pulling you closer to his lap. Initially, the two of you planned to stay in and spend some quality time rewatching Game of Thrones, until your friends decided to throw a last-minute house party. Being the homebody that you are, the answer to the invitation was rather obvious, but Jungkook’s blabber mouth had already promised to come. And, since you guys are practically attached by the hip, naturally, that meant you had to come as well. 

“Koo, why would you say yes?” you whine into the pillow as your body plops onto his soft bed. Kicking your feet, you look and feel like a child who was forced to go into a timeout. 

“Sorry princess, but Jason put me on the spot,” he pouts, taking off his muscle tee before crawling closer to you. Turning on your back, you cross your hands over your chest as his arms cage your form under him, silver chains dangling over your annoyed face. 

“Get off of me, I don’t like you right now,” you snap, avoiding his eyes as his face inches closer. 

“Come on baby, just one night. I’ll make it up to you, mhm?” Jungkook whispers, hooded gaze searching your eyes before placing a needy kiss on your pouty lips. 

“And if I say no?” 

“Would you rather have your pretty moans do all the explaining when Jason and Bomi play back my voicemail? I don’t mind, it’s your choice really,” he smirks, tucking a few hair strands behind your now, red ear. 

“You are unbelievable, you know that?” you scoff, rolling your eyes at his teasing before finally pushing him off of you.  

“You love it, don’t lie,” 

- -

After basically pulling you out of his bed, the two of you quickly got dressed and headed towards Bomi's place, which was only a 15-minute car ride. However, although you loved your friends dearly, your desire to leave was further fueled by the number of people at this “small” get-together. It didn’t matter which corner of the room you’d look at, because, without fail at least three different groups were most likely chatting there. It's as if everyone and their neighbour’s second-removed cousins were invited. Nonetheless, all the complaining was useless at this point and thanks to Jungkook, you now found yourself playing Spin the Bottle with tipsy university students. 

“Ooh this is going to be fun,” Jason chuckles with a mischievous grin as the bottle lands on Jungkook. 

“They're basically one person though,” Bomi giggles, eyeing the way you were cuddled in between Jungkook’s legs, making it difficult to tell who the bottle was actually pointing to. 

“I'm gonna say Jungkook,” Jason grins, giving him a sly wink. 

“Of course you would,” Jungkook scoffs, resting his chin on your head before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Truth or Dare, Jeon?” Jason asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Dare,” 

There is a noticeable pause in the circle as Jason searches your scattering eyes, letting out a soft smile at the way Jungkook’s arms seemed to tighten their hold on your form the longer his stare went on. 

“Ok, I dare you to not touch y/n for a whole week,” Jason chuckles, scrunching his nose when his eyes meet Bomi’s shocked expression. 

“Fuck off,” Jungkook laughs, poking the side of his cheek with his tongue. 

“Nuh-uh, you can’t back out now,” 

“Koo, if you win, I’ll do whatever you want. But, if I win, you will let me ride your motorcycle,” you whisper, facing his hooded gaze as your hands rest on his thighs. Tracing little circles on his jeans, your doe eyes sparkle under the living room lights as he leans closer, lips resting inches apart. 

“Nice try princess,” 

“Koo, please,” you whine softly, gliding your hands up his chest before intertwining your fingers in his dishevelled hair. 

“You would rather ride some stupid motorcycle than be with me?” Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, unable to hide his little smirk. 

“Oh relax, it’s not that deep,” you roll your eyes, glancing back at Bomi, who is visibly consumed by the interaction at hand.

“I definitely won’t be for a whole week, thanks to you,” Jungkook whispers into your ear, nibbling on the soft skin before facing your widened eyes. 

“Koo, shut up,” you yelp, quickly covering his mouth as your cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

--

MONDAY

“You know, there are better things you could ride, y/n. You're sitting on one right now,” Jungkook whispers with a sly grin as his gaze darkens watching you straddle his thighs. Stretching his back against his gaming chair, his hands naturally rest on your waist, making sure you don’t lose balance. 

“Paws off Jeon,” you snap teasingly. 

“Why are you being like this?” he whines, resting his head back before letting out a deep sigh.  

“I’m not going to let you win so easily baby,” 

TUESDAY

“Do you like it?” you exclaim with excitement, opening the changing room curtains before stunting a pose in a black mini dress. 

“I hate it,” Jungkook sighs, crossing his hands over his chest. 

“What? Why?” you whine. 

“I hate that I can’t rip it off you,”

WEDNESDAY 

“Koo, what do you want for dinner?” you shout, scanning his fridge before pulling out some frozen shrimp and broccoli. 

“You,” Jungkook replies from the bathroom. 

“Koo, I’m serious,” 

“Me too,”

THURSDAY 

Koo: Y/n, can you send me a picture of yourself?

Y/N: Are the ones on your phone not enough?

Koo: They’re old 😫

Y/N: We took some yesterday … 

Koo: Yes, and?

Y/N: Why do you need them, anyway?

Koo: I can’t take it anymore and the only person who can help me is prioritizing a motorcycle over my mental wellbeing. So, I’m going to have to take the matter into my own hands. Literally. 

Y/N: Men disgust me 🫠

FRIDAY 

“Y/n … is this what you always wear to the gym?” Jungkook gulps watching you unzip your jacket, exposing his favourite pink sports bra of yours. 

“Yes?” you chuckle. 

“Well, could you not?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I come naked next time?” you reply teasingly, moving closer to his tense body as the tight space between you two becomes almost suffocating. 

“Put this on before I pass out,” he scoffs, covering your chest with his black hoodie. 

SATURDAY 

“Hello?” you manage to let out, scratching your eyes before glancing at the clock on your nightstand. 

“Koo, it's 2 am …” 

“Y/n, please come over, I can’t sleep. I promise I won’t touch you, just need to feel you next to me,” he pleads through the phone. 

SUNDAY

Hearing the doorbell ring, you finish up your skincare before glancing at the peephole. Last time you checked it was almost midnight, so you proceed with caution before letting out a sigh of relief upon recognizing the man on the other side of the door. Who could have guessed? It was none other than Mr. Jeon himself. Opening the door, your smile slowly fades at the intensity of his darkened orbs. 

“On the bed, let’s go,” Jungkook says sharply, taking off his black button-up as his heaving chest glistens under the moonlight.  

“What happened to please?” you stutter, standing still in your pink, silk robe. 

“Please y/n, I’ve been so good,” he turns around, dropping to his knees before inching closer to your warm body. Begging on his knees, his gaze is hooded, consumed by need and desperation. 

“Much better. What do you want, baby?” you whisper, caressing his hair as his hands trace up your thighs. 

“You, y/n. I’ve never wanted someone more. Please, let me have you,”

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

[grapejuicestyless]

I Just Want To Love You.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry’s an idiot, but he’s not stupid.

Seeing her so distraught was something I wish I had never seen. The image of her teary eyes burning into mine tattooed itself into my brain and her trembling lip was a constant thought that clouded it just as horrible.

She had been so bubbly, so happy when I first called her. She seemed relieved I was there to talk to her, there to catch up while we were so far apart.

I noticed that about her. With each of these calls, she seemed to grow more and more excited. She got more and more lively like my presence was the best thing in the world to her, even if I couldn’t be there to hold her and say what I wanted to, to her face. She supported me fully, every god damn time.

It was only when her voice came out a shaky mess and her eyes blinked rapidly to hide the tears that it clicked. All too late and all too naive to realize it at the time, but it all fell into place as soon as the phone went dead and the final sentences spoken to each other fell deaf.

She was excited I was coming home. My y/n, my baby, had been at home, waiting patiently for her lover to come home and live up on her for so long. She’s been so patient and so supportive, how could I have not seen it.

Sure, I suspected it in the past, seeing the slight twitch of her lips when I’d mention another leg of tour being added in order to connect with more international fans and spread positivity in the best way I could, but her over supportiveness overshadowed those brief moments. My stomach twisted sickly at my careless neglect to my love.

While I was out for months between holidays, surrounding myself with love and overwhelming support, y/n had been waiting for the one person she held close to her heart to come home and show her some love in return.

Suddenly, I felt selfish. I felt disgusting and I felt like the worst boyfriend in the history books in that moment. How had I been so careless with the most precious love of my life? How had I let myself drift so far from her?

This realization set in hard, hitting deep. I couldn’t sleep on it, knowing I was hurting her by not being there with her.

So, though I was sure I would get an earful the next morning from some of my closest friends on this long, close knit tour group for being so on and off and deciding so last minute to cancel any further plans, but it had to be done.

I watched the phone ring for a few minutes, Jeff’s name illuminated on my phone. Glancing to the clock by my side, it read out 2:35am. Three hours after the phone call with Y/n had ended. Three hours since that moment had been stuck on a loop in my head.

“Hello?” He answered, voice heavy with sleep and throat dry from the hours with no water.

“Hey, Jeff. Sorry for calling so late…listen, fuck. I just want to be straight forward about this. I can’t do those additional shows like I said before. I need to go home this month. Not September. July. I need to be at home.” My voice came out a mile a minute, loud and stern. I was certain of what I wanted.

My palms were heavy on my eyes. Fingers rubbing harshly into my temples, Jeff let out a quiet sigh.

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine. Nothings been finalized yet. We can cancel. I’ll get on it first thing today. At a normal hour, okay? Go to bed, Harry. You have a show today.” The phone beeped dead, and for the first time in the last few hours, the guilt that was so heavy became slightly lighter.

I wanted to call y/n, share the exciting news and explain how horrible I felt for treating her so poorly these past few months. I wanted to kiss her and hold her until she screamed at me to leave her alone, but I was still halfway across the world with a couple more shows left before I could fix everything for us.

…

Going away for awhile was bittersweet usually. I would cherish the time alone I would get in the serenity of my own home. Having the ability to curl up on the carpet and spread myself put into a comfortable sleep whenever, the feeling of home enough to lull me into a deep slumber for the first few days. I would miss the stage terribly too. I would miss the fans funny signs and excitement surrounding a shared passion for music. Yet, when I made the speech about going away for a bit, I found myself hesitating on the promise to come back.

Yes, of course I would come back. In a years time I would be ready to head back on the road. Yet, still feeling the hangover from my breakthrough just a few weeks ago, I felt nothing but relief to be going away to my y/n.

I found myself rushing to the airport. Showing up early just to sit impatiently with my headphones jammed in my ears so hard it almost silenced all my thoughts.

Y/n seemed to be doing better, recently. I hadn’t told her we finalized the plan to not continue adding shows to HSLOT. I hadn’t told her about that late night call with Jeff or how much deep regret I felt for ignoring her all those weeks apart.

We talked almost every night. She shared her silly poems she had written and doodled on every unused notebook in the house while I was away, she confessed. Always the most cheery when she didn’t have to be. Always so strong. Always such a beautiful, caring woman to me.

What a beautiful love story her and me had that I’d managed to fuck up so carelessly.

That idea became my new worry. From the airport all the way to our driveway, it became the poison that overtook my body. How I hadn’t listened to her silent pleas. How I hadn’t seen how I was slowly killing her with my lack of care.

My knuckles rested on the door. I knocked, knowing it was my home too. I still knocked, unsure if I would be welcomed.

The door swung open, y/n looking sleepy, pen ink on her hands and my clothes blanketing over her body in a cozy make shift pajama set.

“Harry?” It was pure shock, the tone she used to greet me. She eyed me up and down, not knowing if it was too good to be true. If her mind was making up games to tear her down all over again.

“Hi, Baby.” The tears clouded my vision, a lump growing in my throat so great that it came out a gravely whimper.

Arms wrapped tightly around my body, her cheek nestling into the crook of my neck. She could’ve knocked me back, if it wasn’t for the good footing I had on our front steps. Even if we fell and I bled out, at least I was back with my love.

And as my shirt became soaked in her happy tears and her hair growing wet from the ones that managed to escape my eyes, I could only think of one thing. Only one thought that replayed the entire journey home. The one thing I wanted so badly since the realization dawned on me.

I just want to love you.

———————————————————————-

I’m so sorry this is soooo messy 😦😦😦

I had the thought and just had to write abt it ASAP so I wouldn’t lose it. I might redo it later!!

[shrimshrim4fun]

Dragon hybrid Jinhsi thoughts + scenario

Warnings: smut, nsfw in general under cut

Pairing: sub!Jinhsi x dom!female reader

-Like do you think she goes through ruts????? Will try to hide from you, dodge you in any form because she doesn’t want to “burned you”

-Her horns sometimes appear when having sex. And will start moaning when she feels you grip them

-Has two dicks. There’s some scales on it but not fully. A light teal at the base and the scales disappear the further up the length

-Mostly sub. Your pillow princess ❤️ When she tops she’s a service top. Goes at the pace you desire and will adjust to any of your needs.

- “Is that alright? Would you like me to go slower?” Will ask you a lot of questions to make sure she pleasures you to the fullest when she tops

-Very pretty crier in bed. If you stimulate her hard enough her eyes will slowly grow glassy. Fat drops of tears roll down her face as she pleads for her release

-Let’s out small whimpers and moans. Is shy and would use her hand to cover her flushed up face as she lay sprawled on the bed

-Proabably the type to grip the sheets really tight. Like she almost tore up that shit. Eyes rolled back as she slightly arches up

-After cumming she’s like 5x more tired than you. She’s still sub space and she’s laying there, lightly panting as her grip on the sheets loosens slightly

-Her two dicks aren’t too big but they have a good size. Around 6 inches and doesn’t have much girth. Quite smooth. Tip is extremely sensitive.

“Let me take care of you now,” your voice purrs against her ear as you lightly push her onto the bed. Hands moving across her body and slipping off her dress and her panties. “You don’t have to you know,” she murmurs. Always so considerate always so caring and considerate with your feelings you just want to ride her until the only the going through her mind is wanting more.

“Considerate it my treat, magistrate,” you smile as your hand wraps around one of her lengths. She lets out a shaky breath as you did. Your hand leisurely move around her dick. Soft moans slipped out of her mouth as you continued. Her head leaned into the pillow as her hips slightly bucked, craving more of your touch. “You like that, pretty girl?” You teased softly. “Y-yes my dearest, you know just how to turn me on don’t you,” her voice soft yet a desperate undertone clung onto her words.

After a few minutes you remove your hand from her cock. A soft whimper came from her as she no longer felt the warmth from your hand. “Don’t cry out just yet I’m not done with you,” you smile before slipping off your shorts and underwear. You position yourself over my dick. Angling it a little upward as you gently press it against your entrance. “Don’t cum until I say so, got it?” You smile. She nods lightly as you finally put it inside. Slowly teasing her, centimeter by centimeter you slowly slip her whole length inside. Her hand tries to cover up her needy moans as she feels you around her length. Your walls pulsating around her already hard dick. “Oh my god,” she moans as her hands cling onto the sheets tighter. “There’s no god to save you now magistrate, only me. Eyes up.” You tell her as you start to move your hips.

As you continue to move your hips, more moans escape through her mouth. Her voice breathy as she looks up at you. “My d-dear, I don’t think I-I’ll handle any mo-,” Her voice gets cut off with a loud moan as you grind deeper into her. “Not yet hold it in, darling. Your doing so well you can hold it in for a bit, no?” You ask. “Yes…I can do it. I’ll do it for you my dear.” Her voice whispers out. “That’s the spirit,” you chuckle as you continue. After some time you notice her eyes grow slightly glassy. Tears threatening to come leak down her eyes. “Awww do you have to cum?” Her head nods eagerly. “Please… I need it so badly,” she murmurs desperately. “Alright then, go on my dear. Cum for me.” Your sudden command makes her finally let go. She moans as her hips buck. Her orgasm wrecks through her like a broken dam.

“That’s it, doing so good,” your voice coos as you give her a minute to adjust. You slip off her dick which makes her let out a soft moan, already missing the feeling of you wrapped snuggly around her eager dick. Little bits of cum are littered near her stomach as you pull off. You hug her as you let out a pleased hum. She smiles softly before hugging you back. “My dearest, maybe next time don’t tease me as much. I don’t think I can handle it.” She murmurs softly. “But it’s so fun seeing your reactions to my touch,” you smile smugly as you nuzzle against the crook of her neck. “Your such a tease you know?” “That’s why you fell in love with me? My charms?” She let out a small chuckle and murmur “It’s only one of the millions, my dearest.”