#and i WILL enjoy it. I will giggle and flap my hands.

[mommyslittlebird]

omg. natasha and wanda taking puppy to the beach as a treat!! i wonder how puppy would be at the beach! actually i wonder about all three of them at the beach (wanda is definitely putting sunscreen on puppy like every hour at least)

-🐆

You excitedly stuck your head out the window, feeling the air on your face and your ears flapping in the wind. Mama and Tasha were taking you and Bowie to the beach for the first time ever, and you could not be more excited.

Natasha parked the car and Wanda climbed out first, unloading some folding chairs and a big beach umbrella. Natasha was out next, followed by Bowie who stayed obediently at her feet while she unloaded the cooler.

You were displeased to be the last one left in the car, yipping and whining while you anxiously paced the back seat. “Mamaaaa! Mamaaaa I wanna get out! I’ll be a good puppy, I promise!”

Wanda giggled and rolled her eyes, knowing you would, in fact, not be a good puppy, and you would run off as soon as she opened the door. She was proven right when she finally picked you up out of the back seat only for you to wiggle out of her arms and charge for the open ocean. She quickly grabbed your harness, pulling you back towards her. She raised her brow and looked at you disapprovingly.

You bowed your head sheepishly and curled up around her leg apologetically. “I’m sorry mama. I got excited.”

When it was finally time to head to the beach, you trotted excitedly behind Wanda. You sank your paw into the soft, grainy sand for the first time. Then you took your paw out of the sand, and sat in the wooden boardwalk, whining as the rest of them continued to walk. Wanda turned around to see what was wrong, finding you on the boardwalk ten feet back.

“Come on, baby,” she encouraged. “You’ve been so excited to see the ocean all day.”

“I don’t like the sand mama. It makes my paws feel funny,” you whined.

Wanda sighed, walking back to the boardwalk and bending down so you could climb on her back. She gave you a piggy back ride until the sand was wet and hard enough for you to comfortably walk on.

She set up the beach umbrella and her beach chair, lying back to lounge in the sun. You climbed onto her lap, lying flat against her chest.

“Baby, why don’t you go play fetch with Tasha and Bowie?” She asked, trying to get you off of her so she could enjoy the sun. “Or you can build a sandcastle. Or look for shells in the water.”

You tucked your body onto hers so no part of you was touching the sand below. “No thank you, mama,” you politely declined. “I like it here with you.”

Natasha tried next, sensing Wanda’s building annoyance. She rested her hand on your back. “Hey bub, do you wanna go play in the ocean?”

You shook your head, keeping yourself firmly pressed against Wanda.

“Not even just the shallow part?”

You shook your head again.

“Okay. Well me and Bowie and gonna go eat some snacks by the water if you want to join us.” Natasha pulled out a baggie from the beach bag. You could smell it as soon as she opened it. It was your favorite: Wanda’s homemade peanut butter treats. Immediately, you lifted your head and started to wag your tail, but you were disappointed to see Natasha bringing them to the water’s edge, breaking them apart and tossing them up in the air for Bowie to catch.

She could tell it wouldn’t take long. Your eyes were longingly fixed on the bag of treats, nose twitching and mouth slobbering. You took a hesitant step onto the sand, finding it was better closer to the water. You slowly approached Natasha, who was sitting on the waters edge.

“Do you want a treat bubby?” She asked, holding a treat temptingly close.

Your resolve finally broke, and you dashed onto the wet sand for a treat.

“That’s a good puppy,” Natasha praised, pulling you into her lap and scratching your ears.

You curled uncertainly into her, still not too sure how you feel about the way the water rose onto the sand. But with Natasha’s encouragement, the two of you slowly scooted closer and closer to the rising tide until it lapped at your paws.

You adjusted quickly, eventually moving off Natasha’s lap and playfully bowing and barking at the tide as if daring it to chase you. Then you’d run away and squeal when the water rolled in.

Natasha egged you on from the water, laughing as you giggled and jumped away from the bubbling water. She tried to help you build a sandcastle, digging up sand with her hands and packing it into a tight pile, but you quickly discovered a new game.

The dent she dug the sand from filled with water from the tide, and you got an idea.

You dug small hole, watching in awe as it filled with water like a tiny pool. Then you dug another hole, and another and another. You dug holes that were bigger, deeper, different shapes. And you were filled with excitement as the tide rolled up and filled them in. It was like an infinite canvas for your favorite banned activity. Wanda never let you dig holes. And the sand was so easy to dig in.

Wanda and Natasha watched from their beach chairs with amusement as you filled the beach with dozens of holes.

“They have made this easily the most treacherous stretch on the entire beach,” Natasha remarked, lazily petting Bowie, who lay next to her. “Someone is gonna sprain their ankle.”

“Oh well,” Wanda sighed nonchalantly, grateful to finally have some peace and time to relax. “They can walk around us.”

Puppy collection

[ccccallsigns-au]

salutations, callsigns audience!

sorry for the radio silence on day 5 post-challenge updates and puzzle week conclusions. I have not even Started any of the necessary grading or artwork.

my current priority is actually schoolwork? so. i have been. doing schoolwork and taking breaks to draw my other characters in the meantime. I will pick up work for day five today after I do my homework and you'll hopefully hear from me regarding the conclusion of this event by this weekend. God willing. No later than Sunday, April 20.

Sorry for dragging this out for all four evers, but thank you immensely for your patience and flexibility, especially regarding things like Me And My Major Mistake Of Accidentally Missing Four Sudokus. I would rather be a little late than cut corners on production quality to meet deadlines.

See you soon! Stay tuned. - the one and only callsigns admin

[miedei]

moments of glad grace

you test your lipgloss on spencer; he loves you.

a/n: hey so this request made me go crazy. um this is the result of me rereading yeats' poems and listening to my love song playlist and buying the new nyx ligloss yesterday dont judge me

cw: slightly suggestive, established relationship, reader has she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, title from when you are old by WB Yeats

wc: 1.5k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

The package is cold in your hands, thin and flat as you thank the deliveryman, shutting the door behind you. The familiar excitement of getting something new zips up your spine, and you hurry into the living room.

Spencer is curled up on the couch, your battered copy of The Collected Poems of W B Yeats in his hands. He raises his head as you come in. 

“Spence, look!” He cocks his head to the side. 

“You got a package!” He’s happy, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand the mischievous tone in your voice. 

“It’s that new lipgloss I ordered.”

“The one that Emily told you about? That’s good, you were really excited about it.” He lowers the book, watching you search through the cluttered contents of the coffee table. 

“The box cutter’s there- to your right, next to the candle- yeah.” You straighten up, flashing him a grateful smile before settling on the couch next to him.

Pulling your feet up on the couch under you, you brandish the box cutter dramatically, giggling at the worried yelp that elicits from Spencer. 

With a touch more precaution, you bring the blade down to the tape on the package, slicing carefully before retracting the sharp edge. 

Spencer leans in, his hand coming down to rest on your back as he watches you fold open the flaps of the box. You reach in, pulling out the reddish-brown tube with a grin. 

“Oh, it’s nice! I was worried the shade wouldn’t be right, but I think this suits me, don’t you think?” You hold it up to your face, turning to Spencer.

His eyes soften, dark pupils melting into the brown of his irises.

“I think that’s great, angel. Are you going to try it on?”

You hop up, heading to the bathroom. Even without looking, you know Spencer has risen with you, following behind you faithfully. 

He can’t resist watching the way you focus when you apply makeup, a tidbit you know from when he spilled it drunkenly after the last time the team went out for drinks.

Leaning over the sink, you twist open the product, pulling out the applicator and swiping it carefully across your lips. 

If your eyes were to stray a little higher than where they’re trained on your lips, you’d see Spencer, hands twitching to hold your waist or hip as he watches you intently, the adoration he holds for you clear in his eyes.

Once finished, you pull back, recapping the tub and setting it down. You spin, facing him with a smile.

“What do you think?” 

Spencer reaches for you immediately. His hand reaching forward to rest on your waist, he leans toward you, the thumb of his other hand rising to wipe just under your bottom lip. His voice is emphatic, reverent.

“It’s perfect, pretty girl.” It sends a shiver down your spine to hear his low tone. You have to distract yourself so as to not drag him to your bedroom immediately. 

Turning your face to gaze at the tube on the counter, you muse softly. 

“Y’know, this gloss is advertised as super longlasting. The colour’s supposed to stay for 8 hours, even after it’s not shiny anymore.”

He hums in response, seemingly content to stand there watching you.

“Do you think we should test it out?”

His brows furrow, the wrinkle that forms between them looking achingly kissable.

“Test the longevity? How are you going to do that?” 

You can’t help yourself, a playful smile spreading across your face as you take his hand, tugging him back into the living room.

“Sit, please?”

He frowns, but does as you say, leaning against the back of the couch as he watches you. 

“Do you want to help me with my experiment, Spence?”

“Help you?”

You move forward, perching on his lap so you can look down at him, mischief glimmering in your eyes. Leaning down, you press your lips to his cheek once, looking at the mark left on his skin with satisfaction.

“Yeah. If you could help me see how long the colour lasts? I figured, you’re the science guy… But if you don’t want to, I guess that’s okay.” 

You move as if to shift off his thighs, but his hands come up to grip your waist, holding you there. 

“No, no I can… I can help. Yeah, I’ll help. You just want to kiss me?” His eyes are large, doe-like as he gazes up at you.

“Yeah. You can read the book while I do, it’s okay.” He shakes his head fervently, almost pulling a laugh out of you. 

“No, I don’t need to read. Go ahead.” You spring into action at his words, leaning down to begin pressing kisses to the curve of his cheekbone, his jaw, the bridge of his nose.

“So, are you liking the Yeats poems? I want to know what you thought, Spence.” You murmur against the skin of his temple, grinning wolfishly when you feel him shiver.

“Yeah, I’m really- really liking it. It’s a really interesting perspective on the fight for Irish independence. Like, um, An Irish Airman Foresees His Death, it was really, uh, interesting.” He’s far less eloquent than usual, a hand coming up to tangle its fingers in your hair as he struggles to get his thoughts out. 

“Yeah? What else did you like about them?” You run out of space on his face, and the marks have only just begun to be less pigmented. What else is there to do but to move down to the coloumn of his throat?

His breath hitches at the feeling of your lips moulding to the sensitive skin there.

“I also liked the ones about Maud Gonne. Like…” You hum, prompting him to continue.

“Uh, like Her Praise. ‘She is foremost of those that I would hear praised.’. Made me- fuck- made me think of you.” 

How easily he can reduce you to your barest emotions. You feel that all-too-familiar burst of affection in your heart, pulling back so you can see his face.

“Really?” 

He seems to regain some of his composure, although his face is still radiating heat, the skin of his cheeks and neck flushing to match the marks you’ve left on him.

“Really. Um, ‘If there be rags enough he will know her name, and be well pleased remembering it,’. I agree with him, ‘her praise should be the uppermost theme.’ I think you deserve praise from everyone who knows you. I can’t believe there’s anything else worth talking about.” 

His voice is heartachingly sincere, and you can feel your face begin to blush to match his. 

“Spence…” 

It’s too much to look him in the eye, and you have to bury your face in your hands to contain the feelings threatening to burst out of your chest.

He laughs, voice slightly raspy from want. Large fingers grip your wrists, pulling them away from your face.

“Look at me, honey.” You do so, meeting his gaze.

“You finished with your experiment?” His low tone rolls over you like a cresting wave. 

“I- yeah. I think that was enough.” 

He smiles, saccharine with a tinge of longing. 

“Can I kiss you this time?” You nod, wordless. 

He leans in slowly, until it feels like your eyelashes should meet his. Eyes flutter shut, a soft sound of relief leaving you as his lips slot against yours in a way that makes you want to believe in soulmates. 

It’s too chaste, his lips leaving yours so soon that it makes you itch to chase him. But you can’t bring yourself to be irked when your eyes open to the sight of him. 

His smooth skin is peppered with kiss marks, varying in pigmentation as they trail down the expanse of his neck. 

Best of all, his lips are kiss-swollen, marked in a shiny hue that matches yours.

[avis-writeshq]

hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!

off my face — spencer reid

summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k

It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink. 

“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head. 

“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”

He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”

“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 

Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt. 

“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”

You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”

He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”

“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”

“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again. 

Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 

“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand. 

“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning. 

He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”

You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time. 

His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone. 

“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”

“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.

“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept. 

“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking. 

He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”

You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm. 

Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.

“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”

You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.

“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”

“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”

“Boring.”

“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”

You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”

“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”

You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache. 

Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected. 

“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

event page

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for @monstersholygrail

A/N: You can read part 1 here and part 2 here. Enjoy!

The curse (part 3)

Demon (POV) x fem!reader || desperate sex, intimate

Your words kept spinning in his brain. He could still feel them burning on his frontal cortex as you opened a new book. “Because I’m in love with a demon who’s been cursed to never leave this store. And I’m damn sure I can break the damn curse so he can come to sleep on my fucking bed.” You were in love with him. In love with a demon… You, his sweet human, were in love with him.

He couldn’t figure out how that came to be. He couldn’t figure out how he made that possible. He was a grumpy asshole who always scared you (on purpose) when you arrived and made fun of your book choices. Even if he later on ordered more romance and supernatural book because it was what you liked to read more. But he would never confess to that.

And still you were there, trying to save him… because for some reason you loved him.

Fascinating.

He couldn’t stop watching you, just staring after your gorgeous face as you worked on the books, completely focused on it. It was the third time he caught you yawning when he decided that was enough. It was okay that you wanted to read everything relating to the curse in order to destroy it, but he wasn’t about to let you overwork yourself for him.

He might be a demon, but he was a demon that felt very human things for the very pretty human trying to help him. “I have a bed here, you know?” He deadpanned, leaning against the door frame trying to look casual.

You looked up from the old volume you were reading, “What?” Your eyes were hooded in a sleepy way, and that made something he didn’t know how to name stir inside his chest. His wings flapping behind him.

“You said you wanted to break the curse so I could go sleep on your bed, but I have a bed,” he explained as if you were stupid, his fangs biting his lip to try not to smile at your annoyed face.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you complained, focus back on the book.

“I know…” He told you, approaching the table you were on very slowly. “But I want to see you on that bed. Preferably naked,” he whispered against your ear, making you let out a screech because of the surprise of having him so close.

He laughed loudly as you scowled at him. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Whatever you say,” he let out between chuckles, wiping away a tear running down his cheek. “Come on, you are tired, let’s go to bed and we can continue this tomorrow,” he tried softer this time, a hint of worry permeating his words.

“Naked?” You teased.

He tried to be good, he really tried, but you were asking about sleeping naked next to him and he was nothing but a demon. A very horny demon. “Do I need to touch you again so you remember what happens when I have you naked?”

The smirk playing on your lips was enough to make him hard as a rock, and the way you whispered: “Mmmm… Maybe I need a reminder,” turned his blood on fire.

“You do, huh?” He teased back, his wings flapping a bit on his back as he approached you, helping you stand up and pressing his hard body against your soft one.

“Yes, please…” Your plea ignited something inside of him that was long dormant.

He grabbed you by the waist, unable to control himself, and used one of his spells to teleport you to bed. You fell backwards as he fell on top of you, your mouths meeting in a frenzy of kisses. His hands tried to touch skin, roaring when he couldn’t touch you fully because you were still dressed. You were giggling as he growled at your clothes, pulling at them until his fingertips burned holes through them, pulling and pulling until they tore and you were exposed to his hungry eyes.

He touched every single part of you he could, until he felt dizzy, almost drunk with desire for you. He could smell your pleasure. He could smell how wet you were for him. And it only made his own arousal grow higher, his brain spinning as he licked and nipped at your skin.

He was desperate, he wanted to touch you but he was scared he could hurt you in any way. “Ride me, little human,” he whispered against your ear.

You moaned as he manhandled you until you were straddling his hard on, his wings trapped under him and your hands pressed against his chest. You were rocking your hips to drive your pleasure higher, and he couldn’t be more happy with it.

He lasted very little like that, your luscious body over him, driving him insane, but your movements too controlled, too slow. He needed more. So he took it. He grabbed your hips with strong hands, his claws picking at your skin as you moaned his name and threw your head back, looking magnificent. But the way your pussy twitched was what gave him the signal you craved the movement, you craved the savageness inside of him.

He pressed you down harder, pushing his hips up at the same time until you screamed. And then he did it again and again, helping you move over him as you rode his dick like a Valkyrie going into battle. He had never seen anything as beautiful as you in that moment.

Your orgasm was a loud, shouting his name at the top of your lungs as he roared his own release, his thrusts erratic as he pushed every little bit of his essence as deep inside of you as he could. The way you smelt at the peak of your passion drove him completely insane. But the way you smelt right after you came and he filled you with his come? Absolute ambrosia.

He was still breathing hard when you whispered: “I can’t forget you if I don’t leave, can I?” You were half asleep against his chest, but the idea of the curse affecting you in that way had him almost jumping out of the bed. Your body resting on top of him was the only thing stopping him from running out. “Hear me out, you were worried the curse could hurt me, but I’ve been here for hours and it hasn’t done anything, so I think it’s safe for me to stay until we figure it out.”

He tried to hold back a growl, but his voice was a low rumble when he blurted: “I won’t let you be trapped here the same way I am.”

“Lucky you aren’t the one deciding it, so suck it and go to sleep,” your tone didn’t leave space for arguments and he could do nothing but to hug you closer as you fell asleep against his side.

He really needed to face the curse, didn’t he?

Fuck.

Part 4 // Part 5

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Logan Howlett x Reader

(1.5k words) This one is for all my not at all nonchalent a little crazy women out there. I love writing dialogue and I love picking on boys :) No warnings, no sex or anything weird, this is just tooth rotting fluff and sillyness. Enjoy :)

edit: I said no sex or anything weird, there's atleast 1 line of logan mocking you by fake moaning, so do with that what you will 😭

The night has long settled on the mansion. It has been a long time since darkness in the building was paired with silence, but these days you and the rest of the staff have been granted the privilege.  

Logan wouldn't call it a privilege, more like slightly annoying at best. He enjoyed chatting with the students wandering the halls, he talked often in private that those were the moments that made staying here worth it.  

However, the silence does lend you moments like these.  

You’d woken up to muffled voices on the other side of your wall. Logans wall, you corrected yourself as you smelt the musky cologne in the sheets. Speaking of which, there was a shocking amount of his sheets pooled over your form to be snuggling with the blanket hog himself, and flapping your arm onto his side of the bed proved your theory.  

He must be in the lounge, putting together the muffled voice coming through the cracks in the door with the vacancy next to you. You hopped out of his bed with a groan. 

 You were insatiable these days, not in terms of sex our arousal or any of that sort, but recently it feels like you can't get enough of him. 

No matter how close he held you, it wasn't enough. You wanted to climb into his chest, smother yourself in his scent and warmth. 

 You call it cuteness aggression, he called it being a pain in my ass, but you can't stop biting him. Youd begged him to let you suck light purple hickeys onto his bicep, and he had to pull you off by the scruff of your neck like a dog.   

So, to say you were troubled by the loss of his form next to you was an understatement. You craved him, his smell and his warmth and the way his chest purred when he breathed, and you wouldn't be able to sleep until you had him.  

You padded your socked feet toward the door and out of his room, the loud squeaky door giving away your movement immediately. He whipped his head around towards you, eyes softening upon seeing your sleepy form. Your hair was messy and tangled, and your shirt was riding up your hip, your sleeping shorts rolled up crooked, but you looked delightful to him.  

“Hey baby,” Logan whispered over his shoulder, quickly scrambling to pause the tv so he could give you his full attention. “You alright?”  

You nod, feet slowly shuffling towards him. “Can't sleep without you,”  

“Oh, baby I’m sorry,” He groans sympathetically as he’s throwing the blanket on his lap to the side and motioning you over. “Come ‘ere gorgeous.” 

He had you wrapped in his arms in moments, draping your body over his as you snuggled into him. He holds you against his chest firmly, planting gentle kissing to the crown of your head and savoring your smell.  

“Sorry baby. Shouldn't have left you alone,” The apology sincere and quiet as he whispers it between butterfly kisses. You grumble in response, nuzzling your head further into his neck and squeezing him. Your eyes were heavy and full of sleep, instantly soothed now that you were back with your lover.  

“It's cause you're mean,” you tease from your spot under his chin, just enough gusto left in you to poke fun. His chest shakes as he chuckles at you, “cause I’m mean, huh?” He matches your tone in response. 

You just nod your head. He chuckled again, although the sound was more akin to a giggle. “I know baby. Got it so bad, trapped here with your big mean boyfriend,” 

Your tough facade slips, giggling at his response as he rubs his hands across your back and waist. You just squeeze him tighter and nod again.  

“Ya don't talk all this shit when I got your legs in the air, princess,” you huff out a feigned gasp, smacking his chest at the inappropriate jest. 

 “Shhh that's not funny”, He cuts you off to continue his teasing, “Actually if I remember correctly, you were all worked up rambling something like ‘oh my big strong boyfriend! You treat me so good baby!’”  

His voice pitches up as he mocks you playfully, moaning and whimpering as you cringe. “Thats not what I sound like!” You retort, smacking his chest and play fighting as you prop your head up to scowl at him. 

“No, you’re right baby, you're right,” you relax, hands coming to rest on his chest as you think his line of teasing is over. 

“You sounded more like ‘uh fuck Logan right th-!’ His little show was suddenly ruined by your hands flying up and covering his mouth, the two of you suddenly tussling on the lounge couch.  

“Are you 12?!” You whisper yell into his face, both your limbs flying as you try to shut him up and he attempts to pin your wrists. It's playful and silly and both of you are red faced and giggling, trying your hardest to stay quiet.  

It's not long before he’s got you successfully flipped over and pinned on your back; wrists pressed beside your head firmly. He’s now hovering over you, both of you panting with goofy lopsided smiles stuck to your face.  

“See? I told you, look how mean you are!” Your eyes flicker from each wrist, a pout on your lips to play up you're teasing. Logan huffs, “It's not mean if you were asking for it, princess,”  

“Yeah right,” You catch his eyes as you look up at him. He is so beautiful. “Give me a kiss,” You whisper, puckering your lips and straining your neck up towards Logans face in an amusing scene.  

“You think you deserve a kiss after all that?” He teases, his face just out of reach. You pout and relax back on the couch.  

“You know you are NOT winning your big meanie pants case right now?”  His eyes crinkle as he laughs at you and your attitude, slowly relaxing his hold on your wrists and allowing you to drape your hands over his shoulders. Despite what he thought was an act of kindness, your scowl did not falter. 

“I didn't know I had a case,” He murmurs, kissing your wrist and moving his hands down to your waist. You nod intently, “yep, you do. And actually, the results are in, and they said you're guilty,” you keep nodding, so sure of yourself. 

He quirks his lip, “guilty, huh?” You nod with a soft mhm, “They gonna to come lock me up, sweetheart?” he swoons, head falling down to kiss your neck. He slowly rests his whole-body weight down and wraps himself around you, getting comfortable again after your little attack.  

“Well, the punishment is usually um... life... in prison,” He hums, nodding his head but slowly losing himself in the comfort of your plush curves. “But they said if you kiss your girlfriend and tell her your sorry and you love her, they might dismiss the charges,” 

He laughs against your skin, his head popping up to look at you as he speaks. “Very fair justice system,” You both nod, giggling at each other and the silliness of your scenario.  

His big palm comes up and gently caresses your cheek, pulling you into a slow kiss. “I'm sorry I left you by yourself,” He whispered into your skin tenderly as he pulled away, his eyes big and soft reflected in the tv light as he spoke. 

“And...” You prompt him. He hangs his head lowly, “And I’m sorry I said you didn't deserve a kiss,” he punctuated his point by softly kissing you again, his hands still gently holding your face.  

“And say you're sorry for fuckin moaning like that too,” Its half a joke, half not. He laughs, head falling against your chest, “I don't know if I’m sorry for that baby” You smack his arm lightly as he's still laughing at your antics.  

“Alright alright, I’m sorry I very accurately enacted the way you sound when we have sex,” You roll your eyes hard at him.  

“You’re insufferable,” he kisses your throat and clavicle as you speak to him, “you love me, baby.” You kiss the top of his head, all fight gone from you and back to just wanting to feel him.  

“I love you a lot, Logan,” His head pops up again, his eyes much more tender and serious this time. He kisses you in response, the meaning clear as he pulls away and practically has hearts in his eyes.  

“By the way the court also said you must carry your girlfriend to bed and cuddle her until she falls asleep.” You murmur with a giggle. He’s already shoving his hands underneath you and scooping you into his arms before you can finish the sentence, arms looped around his neck as he carried you effortlessly.  

“I was gonna do that either way, princess.” 

[amirasainz]

Ok, hear me out. Carlos, who looks after drunk reader. She is like hyperactive and he is trying to look after her.

Thank you💜💜💜

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Hyperactive night's

The club was alive with music, lights, and the sound of clinking glasses, but Carlos Sainz was on high alert. His girlfriend, Yn, was very, very drunk. He glanced over at her, perched on a barstool, swirling the remains of her cocktail and giggling at nothing in particular. They were out clubbing with friends, most of whom were still dancing and having a great time. Carlos, however, had taken on the role of the responsible one tonight, his only drink being a steady supply of sparkling water.

Yn wasn’t just tipsy—she was gone. Her hyperactivity had kicked in about half an hour ago, and Carlos had been chasing her around the dance floor ever since. She had now turned her attention to him, her eyes wide and full of excitement, like a kid in a candy store.

“Carlitoooos!” she screeched over the music, her hands flapping in front of her as if she’d just discovered that she could, in fact, move them.

Carlos, used to this by now, leaned in with a half-smile. “Yes, amor?”

“I wanna—I wanna dance more!” she announced, wobbling off the barstool and stumbling straight into Carlos’ chest. “Let’s dance, papi! Wooo!” She flailed her arms in an uncoordinated attempt at a twirl.

Carlos caught her before she could faceplant. “I think you’ve danced enough for tonight, no? How about we head home, and I’ll make you some water?” He spoke gently, knowing that trying to argue with Drunk Y/N was like trying to reason with a hurricane.

“Water?!” She looked at him as if he’d suggested she drink paint. “Nooo, I want another margarita! Pleeease, Carlitos. Pleeease. I need it! We’re celebrating!”

Carlos chuckled and shook his head, trying to steer her toward the exit. “You’re definitely not having another margarita, amor. Let’s go.”

But Yn was slippery, like a drunk eel, and before he could grab her, she darted back into the crowd. “Catch me if you caaaan!” she giggled, weaving through people like she was running a race. Carlos sighed. Why did she have so much energy when she was drunk?

He waded through the sea of people, dodging sweaty dancers and a guy who had clearly been trying to flirt with anything that moved. Finally, he found her standing near the DJ booth, trying to bribe the DJ with the half-eaten nachos she’d somehow acquired.

“Please play ‘Despacito,’ I’ll give you this!” she said, holding up a sad-looking nacho with one soggy corner. The DJ looked both confused and mildly entertained.

Carlos swooped in just in time, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sorry, man. She’s had too much.” He flashed the DJ an apologetic smile.

Yn was having none of it. “Nooo, Carlos! I was this close to getting ‘Despacito!’ Why are you ruining my vibe?”

“I’m saving your vibe,” Carlos said, steering her back toward the exit once more. “Come on, let’s go. Fresh air, remember? You like fresh air.”

Yn looked up at him, her eyes wide with sudden excitement. “Fresh air! The ocean! Carlos, let’s go to the ocean!”

Carlos blinked. “Wait, what?”

But it was too late. She was already bolting for the door, her heels clicking wildly on the floor.

“Yn, no!” Carlos shouted, following her out of the club. His legs may have been trained for F1 racing, but right now, it felt like he was competing in an Olympic sprint. Yn was shockingly fast for someone who could barely walk in a straight line.

They burst out into the cool night air, Yn laughing hysterically as she ran down the street toward the beach, which, unfortunately, was only a few blocks away.

“Yn, stop running!” Carlos called after her, trying to catch up. He could feel his heart pounding—both from the physical exertion and sheer panic. She was drunk and running toward the ocean. This was the stuff of nightmares.

Yn, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She kicked off her shoes and started running barefoot down the sand, her arms outstretched like she was about to take flight.

“I’M A MERMAID, CARLOS!” she screamed, spinning in circles as she headed for the waves.

Carlos finally caught up to her and tried to grab her arm, but she dodged him, giggling like a madwoman. “No! Let me live my dream!”

“Your dream is to drown?!” Carlos panted, still trying to corral her as she charged toward the ocean like it was some kind of mystical destination.

“I’m gonna swim!” she announced proudly, stepping into the water. The cold shock of it made her shriek with glee. “It’s so cold—I LOVE IT!”

Carlos practically dived after her, grabbing her around the waist before she could go any deeper. “Nope. No swimming. Out of the water, mermaid. You’re coming back to shore.”

Yn kicked and flailed in his arms, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Carlos! You’re ruining my ocean adventure!”

“Your ocean adventure is over. You’re freezing, and you’re going to catch a cold,” he said, dragging her back to dry land.

She sagged in his arms, finally giving up, but still grinning from ear to ear. “I was having so much fun.”

“I know you were, loca,” Carlos said, setting her down on the sand. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “But I can’t let you drown. You’re not actually a mermaid.”

She blinked up at him, her expression suddenly serious. “You don’t know that.”

Carlos laughed despite himself. “Yes, I do.”

Yn looked up at the stars, then back at him, her eyes softening. “You’re the best, Carlitos. I love you so much.”

Carlos smiled, sitting down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm. “I love you too, but you’re never drinking this much again.”

She giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Deal. But only if you promise to always save me when I try to swim after too many margaritas.”

“Always,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But next time, you’re staying on the beach.”

Yn smiled, snuggling into him as she closed her eyes. “Okay, but can we go back to the club tomorrow? I still need to hear ‘Despacito.’”

Carlos groaned, looking up at the sky. He was never letting her near a DJ booth again.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Warnings: Age gap, smut, p in v penetration, fingering, wing play, shadow play, you get the dea

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: Couldn’t get the idea of Rhys’ daughter with Az out of my head so I decided to write it down, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist | Next

Requests are open!

From the moment he’d laid eyes on you, a newborn still covered in the blood and fluids of Feyre, cradled gently in her arms, he’d known you would be special.

Not just special to him as a family member, in the same way your older brother, Nyx, was, but something deep in him, more ancient and wise, had known.

He’d watched you grow up, always watching quietly along with everyone else as you slowly grew.

When you’d started crawling, large blue eyes peering up at Rhys as you had giggled and cooed, legs and arms moving clumsily in tandem to your father, who was kneeling, arms open and beckoning you to come closer. Feyre had been sat down on the edge of the couch, Nyx, only four years old, sitting on her lap as she’d raked fingers through his dark curls.

“There’s my pretty girl,”

Rhys had murmured to you in a soft tone as you’d finally made your way into his arms, he’d picked you up and began gently giving you little kisses as your pudgy little hands grabbed at him, hooking onto his bottom lip and tugging.

Cassian’s hearty laughter could be heard from across the room as he walked in to find you pulling on every part of your father you could get your hands on. He had plopped down on the couch next to Feyre, leaning back slightly and settling as Nyx crawled into his lap.

Azriel had been there when you’d taken your first steps. When your tiny little legs had slowly, unsteadily begun moving, arms thrown out to balance as your fuzzy little wings had been stretched to the side to hopefully keep you from falling.

What had been the thing that had made you finally walk after all of your parents failed attempts to entice you into it?

A beetle.

It sounded ridiculous, and looking back on it, it was.

Nyx had originally brought it in, hoping to scare you and make you run away from it, with Feyre hot on his heels trying to make him put it back down.

Whether it had been the way its wings had flapped so quickly, or the shiny, rainbow iridescence of its shell that reminded you of the rainbows that formed over the Sidra after light rain, you’d been fascinated. Feyre had let out an ear-piercing squeak as soon as she’d seen you start walking, and towards a live bug no less.

Rhys was there in an instant, clearly wondering what had caused his mate such distress when he caught the sight of it and grinned larger than ever before, maybe. Nyx got closer to you, the bug still squirming in his hands, but before he could get it to the babbling baby, Azriel calmly stepped in and gently grabbed the shiny insect, releasing it out of an open window.

He remembered your first word, which, unsurprisingly, had been “mama”. He remembered your first day of school, where you had been shy and almost shed a few tears when separating from your parents.

And gods, he definitely remembered your first day of middle school, when you’d come home sniffling and his first instinct had been to murder whoever had made you feel such a way.

It had been happy tears, apparently, when a friend you’d lost contact with long ago after leaving your elementary school early had met back up with you, in the same grade and class.

High school had also been a nightmare, for the entire family because of your frequent mood swings, not to mention the never-ending drama and gossip surrounding the High Lord and Lady’s daughter and son. Nyx had been a Senior when you’d first gone in as a Freshmen.

Due to your generally quiet and reserved temperament, there was little dating from you to deal with, luckily, but Nyx had been a nightmare. The boy was a player, to say the least, not to mention how he made it his personal mission to annoy you to death anytime you were having sleepovers or hangouts with your closest friends.

“Get out…!”

You had half-yelled, half-whispered from inside your pillow fort, your friend quietly giggling beside you. It was midnight and Nyx still wouldn’t leave you alone. One hand swatted the blanket entrance to the side, and Nyx’s smirking face met yours as he then lay on the floor, chest down, legs playfully swinging.

“Don’t be shy, spill all the drama.”

He drawled, eyes dancing with amusement. Your friend giggled, hiding behind you, apparently finding your brother incredibly funny. Annoyingly funny.

“I’ll call Cassian.”

You threatened, giving Nyx a look. He simply raised a brow, smirk widening.

“You wouldn’t dare interrupt his beauty sleep, would you?”

You huffed, the knowledge that Cassian was asleep this early making you not want to wake him. You were always like that, worrying about others, and caring for them. Suddenly, an idea hit you, and a small smile curled on your lips, one that seemed to make Nyx nervous as his eyes widened.

“Don’t even-“

He got that far before you called out for Azriel, his shadows most likely carrying the yelled whispers out to him, and in a moment he was there, oddly quick for your call. He took one look at the pillow fort, the scent of you and your friend inside, and Nyx’s intrusion, and grabbed him, carrying him easily out of the room and nodding at your giggled thanks.

From then on, something seemed to shift between you and your shadowsinger.

The way he looked at you had changed, but it wasn’t overly obvious. Nothing had been added, it was still respectful as ever, even when he’d spied your prom dress, or your graduation dress, a beautiful mixture of light and airy but still tight in the right places, fabric cascading down your body in shades of rich purples, highlights of a gentle yellow reflecting the glow of the stars amidst a dark skylight.

That dress had nearly brought him to his knees. It had been one of the many that Rhysand’s mother had made before her death.

Still, he’d never let his gaze linger, never had a hint of anything darker or longing in his hazel eyes, but something had changed. The familial connection you had with him seemed to have fallen more into that of a friend, or almost an authority figure, but not quite. What it was, you couldn’t ever figure out.

However, the Cauldron had its own plans, ones that nobody in the family could’ve expected.

*********************************************************

It had been the night of Starfall, coincidentally only a few days after your eighteenth birthday. Rhys always liked to tease you, saying if you’d only waited a few more days then you could’ve shared your special day with one of the most special days of the year in Night Court.

Azriel had taken extra time to get ready for tonight, dressing himself comfortably, but also regally. It wasn’t too much, and it wasn’t too little. He liked teetering on the balance between the two, it often let him blend into the background while his brothers enjoyed their mates.

When he arrived, he’d first seen Nyx slip off into a dance with another woman of Night Court, not too uncommon for the male at these parties.

Nesta danced with Cassian, playfully teasing him about something as he laughed and retorted, all the while Feyre and Rhys slowly danced between sipping on glasses of wine, content to bask in this moment together.

Family dances weren’t uncommon, which was why you didn’t think much of it when Azriel offered you his hand for a dance. It was almost a habit at this point, as you two ended up lumped together now since everyone else seemed to have found their happy ending.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but leave her alone.”

Rhysand had told him. And he had left Elain alone.

Now, weeks, months, and years later, Elain was happy with Lucien, basking in his warmth and domesticity as they both shared a home in Day Court, Lucien now the proclaimed heir of Helion after his heritage was discovered and revealed.

Mor was still “single”, but Azriel knew better, with the way she still gave eyes to that one waitress at Rita’s who always touched and looked at her longer than necessary. That was Mor’s decision on whether to reveal it to the family or not, and he understood it.

Nyx was still…hopping from female to female, happy with the cheap thrills the Night Court ladies could give him. According to his shadows, the boy had recently caught the eyes of a specific girl, his usual pattern of getting bored and moving on crumbling in the face of her.

However, it was just you and Azriel, surrounded by mated couples and lovers as he gently pulled you closer to him, hands intertwining with his with a practiced ease, while you both began a slow, gentle dance to the rhythm of the music. Your eyes were on the stars, the ones which your father had always told you were spirits migrating, or traveling on this day in particular, for whatever reason.

His eyes were on you, watching as your deep blue eyes, freckled with what looked like stars amidst an aurora haze observed the night sky. No matter how many times you saw it, it always seemed to amaze you. Something he was a bit jealous of.

Your black hair, midnight as your father’s, fell in waves against your tanned skin, a fair mixture between your mother and father. The dark wings, courtesy of your father, were tucked neatly in on your back, as they usually were during events like these, though they slowly relaxed as you got lost in the music and cool atmosphere of this night.

It was then that it had happened.

You had turned to look at him, blue eyes full of the quiet appreciation and confidence that mirrored his own in some ways, meeting his dark hazel ones, that sparks seemed to fly in both of your veins.

His eyes widened, something you had seldom seen before. The shadows around him tightened, agitated, before going to your side and some wrapping around you, their whispered touches cold against your warm skin.

Both of your feet faltered, hands that were intertwined loosening, but staying together. It was only the two of you in that moment, everything else seemed to be drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

That was what he had been to you, never an uncle like Cassian, never a full authority figure, not a friend, but your mate.

The realization of what had just happened hit like a brick. You and Azriel were mates. It had taken your father almost five centuries to find his mate, the same for Cassian, and you were lucky enough to find him this early in life. You mentally wrapped tender hands around the golden thread in your chest, tying you both together, and very hesitantly pulled on it.

Based on the way he jerked and twitched, before pulling on his end, making you do the same thing, colliding with his chest with a small ‘oomph’, confirmed everything for the both of you.

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, watching painfully close for any tiny sign of fear, pain, anger…, anything he didn’t want to cause. You could only wrap your arms around him in return, too enamored with the male in front of you to care about the two of you embracing like lovers at Starfall, for all to see.

They could see, you didn’t mind.

*********************************************************

From the moment the bond had snapped, and overwhelming heat and affection had flooded his being, Azriel knew he was fucked.

Wrapping his arms around you felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced, filling that empty, hollow space inside of him. It felt as if you were melting into him, slowly filling every hole, sealing every crack and crevice, except for the one thing left; accepting it.

He would die before putting pressure on you. You would accept it when you were ready. Even then, as much as he hated the thought of Rhys throwing around his status again, he knew he had to do this carefully or he could very well be banned from seeing you until you were deemed ‘ready’.

Even now Rhys was watching, eyes narrowing in what looked like curiosity as he watched the scene before him, his daughter and shadowsinger, both reserved, slightly shy people, openly embracing and seeming utterly lost in each other. If that hadn’t given it away, then the tears that seemed to well up in Azriel’s eyes, and the ones already running down your cheeks, did.

He murmured something quietly to Feyre, slipping off with an apologetic glance as he walked quickly over to you, trying to gently pull you into his arms. That always worked. To his surprise, you clung to Azriel like he was a lifeline, turning to him, crying silently as you sniffled.

His first urge was to slaughter Azriel for whatever he’d done to upset you, but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

“What’s-?”

He began to ask, before meeting Azriel’s gaze. His eyes were welled with what looked like tears, pure desperation and pleading so strong in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen before from his Spymaster.

“We’re mates.”

The two words were almost a whisper, but as soon as he heard it, his heart nearly stopped. From the way you clung to Azriel, he could tell that you probably wouldn’t reject the bond whatsoever, and the way Azriel held you, his touch desperate but also so loving and gentle, he knew that it would be hopeless to try and separate you two.

His hand went to rub the bridge of his nose for a moment, before his eyes went to you again, then glancing up at Azriel, a silent question in his gaze.

‘Can you control yourself around her?’

Azriel seemed almost relieved at that, nodding almost imperceptibly. He had amazing control over himself, Rhys knew that about him, but with a mate, and his daughter at that? He was anxious, which wasn’t common for the High Lord. With a sigh, he spoke again.

“Have fun, but don’t rush anything. We can talk through this in the morning.”

Your father said, another sharp glance at Azriel, before he returned to Feyre’s side, no doubt informing her on what had happened. His violet eyes burned into the two of you all night as you danced and laughed and Azriel even managed to get you to take a little sip of wine, at which you deemed it “gross” and poured it out.

The night didn’t last nearly long enough, as Azriel finally escorted you back to your room, embracing you one last time in a way that made him feel complete, before leaning down and murmuring into your ear.

“Sleep well. We have plenty to do tomorrow.”

The tips of your ears turned pink at the implication, but he was gone before you could even get a word in. You reluctantly crawled into bed, trying to get at least a wink of sleep in, and barely succeeding.

*********************************************************

The next morning was a bit awkward, not to mention nerve-wracking.

Your parents looked worried, and your father seemed a bit stern, unusual for him this early in the morning. Azriel was already seated on the couch, scarred fingers twitching as they drummed against his thigh when you walked in, sitting right next to him.

His wing curled instinctively around you, with him not giving a damn about what Rhys or Feyre thought of it.

With a heavy sigh, Rhys turned to face you, meeting your gaze.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes.”

You replied, not an inch of hesitation or uncertainty in your usually quiet tone. Gods, you wanted to accept the bond, all you needed was for your parents to give their permission, and hopefully approve of it.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, studying you and Azriel, before softening. His little girl was all grown up, and it was unfair to try and pull rank or any other bullshit to keep her from her mate, or to keep Azriel from his equal.

“You can use the cabin, I’ll…be checking on you.”

He said, voice rough with emotion. Azriel nodded, a silent thanks before his hands gently pulled you onto his lap. In a swirl of darkness and shadows, you were both sitting on the couch of the cabin in Illyria, your mother’s paintings still bright and fresh in the warm cabin.

“You know what to do, right?”

He asked, the words quiet but affectionate.

You gave a little nod. Offer him food. That was pretty much it.

“I’ll just go get an apple or something. Also, could you start the fire? It’s freezing.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rich and deep, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and reluctantly getting up to go light the wood in the fireplace.

You walked over into the kitchen, pulling a fresh apple from what looked to be a fruit bowl, before eagerly chopping it up into pieces with a knife. You could hear the fire crackling before you saw it, walking back in to meet Azriel in the living room where he stood patiently.

You offered him a slice of the apple, already chewing your own, and he smiled softly, accepting it with a quiet,

“Thank you.”

Before popping it into his mouth, chewing slowly, and savoring it while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. You felt the bond split open, all sorts of feelings and thoughts both coming from your mind and coming from his, flooding your brain.

You didn’t try to filter your thoughts, no matter how embarrassing they got. He got to have all of you. He seemed to feel the same way.

It was so quick that you barely even noticed him moving, but in a matter of moments and the swirling of shadows, you were both on the bed in a room, his lips moving eagerly against yours as his body slotted into place above you and between your legs. His tongue nudged at your lips, before slipping inside your mouth and dancing with yours, the lingering taste of the apple still there.

Your hips began slowly grinding against his clothes cock, already feeling it through his pants and how it throbbed. You could’ve sworn you even felt a pulse.

He let out a guttural groan at that, only pulling away from your mouth to breathe, taking in hot, heavy pants that had your pussy drooling. Whether he felt it through the bond or smelled your arousal, you could see his eyes widen and nostrils flare, before his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Az, please-“

You whined, already needing more of him. You needed more than friction, you needed touching and contact. He only nodded and began pulling your dress off, surprisingly carefully, his limbs trembling with restraint.

“I know, sweet girl.”

His shirt and pants were soon to go, and his boxers were then tossed to the floor. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock, long and thick as it was, the tip was an angry red and leaking, as soon as it was released it slapped against his stomach. He caught you staring, seeing the slight fear and hesitation in your gaze.

“Are you sure that’s going to..fit?”

You asked, voice more timid and meek than you wanted it to be. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor while his hands began rubbing your tender breasts, kneading them and rubbing your pert nipples between his thumb and finger.

He chuckled lowly at your question.

“It will, I promise. I’m going to use my fingers first to stretch you a bit if that's alright?”

He asked, one finger brushing gently through your folds as he bit his tongue, trying to keep groaning at how wet you already were. Barely any stimulation and you were already writhing under him. So sensitive it was adorable. As much as he wanted to take his time and drag this out, to make you beg and plead until you were a mess, he didn’t have the patience, not now.

You nodded.

“Please.”

The word slipped from between your lips before you could even think, already whimpering as one finger gently began slipping into you. He marveled at how tight you were, thoughts already wandering as his fingers began curling, thumb massaging your clit. As you moaned and cried out, legs already trembling and trying to close, he held them open, settling between them as another finger was scissored into your cunt.

A white, hot heat had begun building in your body before you could begin to process what was happening, moans spilling from your lips like water flowing from a waterfall. More fingers slipped in, his thumb still running circles with just the right amount of pleasure on your clit.

It was too much.

“Az- Az, please, I’m gonna-“

And then it felt like everything exploded.

He watched you fall apart around his fingers, the three of them working in tandem, curling against that spongy spit in your walls as his thumb worked your clit sinfully good. His cock was aching as he tried rubbing it against your leg for at least some friction, which didn’t succeed.

“It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re doing perfect for me, okay?”

He murmured to you, slowly watching as you came down from your high, thighs trembling, tears already drying. Your body wanted more. The frenzy demanded more.

One of your hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, at which he curiously watched. You whined, glancing at his cock and gesturing to it.

“Words, honey. What do you want?”

He asked gently, looking down at you with enough affectionate lust to make you melt on sight as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your cock. Want it inside.”

You mumbled, cheeks flushed red as you sniffled, giving him a pleading gaze he couldn’t do anything but give in to as he leaned forward, hovering just above your body, his arms braced on his elbows on either side of your head after he’d lined himself up with your entrance.

“Just take a deep breath for me and relax, sweet girl.”

He spoke softly to you, taking a deep breath of his own before nudging the tip in, slowly letting inch after inch go in, watching your expression for any hint of pain and slowing down at any sign of it.

Your face was contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, hips bucking up as you gasped at him being pushed deeper, his raw groaning an easy answer to it.

“Cauldron, you’re big.”

You whined against the skin of his chest, nose buried in the nook of his shoulder. He let out a strained laugh, not at you, but at your words.

“I take great pride in it.”

He teased back, before letting out a sigh of relief as he bottomed out.

“Need a minute, hold on-“

You said, breathless as you tried to adjust to the feeling of Azriel splitting you open. You’d never felt anything this big in you before, only having the liberty of your fingers or occasionally a toy doing the trick. He was nestled so deep that it felt like he could easily rearrange your organs if he wanted to.

“Tell me when,”

He managed to say back, every muscle in his sculpted body taught as he held back, that was, until, you began rocking your hips into his after a few minutes longer. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as he, Azriel, Spymaster of Night Court, let out the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard as he began slowly pumping in and out.

“I’m not going to last,”

He rasped, and after a few minutes he was already about to fall apart completely, the feeling of your- his mate’s tight heat squeezing his cock like a vice grip, had him so, so close already. You managed a loose, breathy laugh.

“Me neither,”

You got out, the pleasure from earlier already building again into a giant wave, your sensitivity now threatening to overtake you as the world turned into a blur of movement, colors, and shadows. Whether by his command or their own free will, you felt the cold tendrils wind around your clit, circling and rubbing while others gave attention to your pert nipples.

What was really your undoing was when some began playing with your wings, stroking right over the insanely sensitive spot that had you arching and writhing beneath Azriel, moans and cries and sobs of pleasure echoing through the room.

As soon as your pussy fluttered around him and clenched, it fully succeeded in milking him of his cum as he came in thick spurts, bucking his hips wildly into you with a groan. It was only after that, that he settled ever so gently on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

The sounds of panting were the only ones for a few minutes before your bodes began screaming for more, more, more…

“Again.”

Part 2

[yazmarina]

not just a figure of speech (you got me down on my knees)

paul aron (f2) x gender neutral!reader

flirting with your teammate seemed a good enough idea, until a not-so-good qualifying tears down every ounce of restraint from your body.

warnings/notes: smut, friends to ???, oral sex, semi-public sex, lots of flirting

a/n: anj stop using lyrics as titles challenge failed. a short and sweet one in honor of our barcelona pole sitter! enjoy <3

"You're here early."

You look up from the monitor in front of you to see Paul walking into the Hitech tent, an easy smile on his lips. He takes the seat in front of you, gently nudging your foot under the table.

"Only because I wanted to see you as soon as I could," you respond. A grin makes its way to your face at the way Paul's cheeks immediately redden.

"Good one," Paul commends, nodding as he avoids your eyes.

"What? You're not happy to see me?" You ask, leaning over the table, peering closer at Paul.

Paul meets your gaze and you can see that the red tinge has reached down to his neck. You giggle, your own stomach bursting into butterflies as his eyes scan over your face.

"I'm always happy to see you, ________," Paul says, reaching over to pinch your cheek.

You lean into his touch, laying the entire side of your face against his hand. He briefly runs his thumb over your cheek, retracting his arm just as quick. You straighten in your seat, clearing your throat.

The engineers and strategists around you don't even bat an eye at the exchange, or even if they had noticed, they've grown too accustomed to your and Paul's teasing, a habit both of you picked up towards the start of the season as a way to get around the awkward tension you two had as new teammates.

You'd tell him he looked handsome as he entered the room and he'd blush and return the compliment. You'd always follow it up with a hearty laugh, brushing it off as friendly banter whenever someone asked.

It's always been this way. And every time you thought it would go somewhere, when the pause and smile between cheeky compliments gets too long, or when hands wander during hugs, Paul would always turn away, distancing himself from you until you inevitably gravitate back toward each other.

You feel like it's something, something that you should probably talk about with Paul, or at least address. But what would you say? What is this?

"Track walk in ten, guys."

You jolt out of your thoughts, everyone around you already packing up to head to the track. You catch Paul's eyes again and he grins, rising from his seat before holding out a hand to you.

You take it without much thought, eventually snaking your arm around his, grip firm on his bicep. If people didn't know better, they'd think the two of you were stepping out for a date.

"I'm excited," you admit, peering up at Paul as the two of you exit the tent. "The track's great. Aren't you excited?"

Paul nods. "I am. Might be in for a win, finally."

You beam, squeezing his arm. "That's my guy."

You miss the way Paul's eyes practically shimmer as he gazes down at you.

-

"P fucking five," Paul curses under his breath, dropping his helmet with a loud clatter to the floor.

You listen and pause just outside his driver's room, the thin, opaque flap of plastic separating him from the rest of the team tent. You know better than to interrupt a driver in the throes of a bad qualifying result but as a teammate and his friend, you know that Paul would never dare lash out at you even if he was upset.

So you call out to him.

"Paul?"

You flinch back when he pulls back the cover of his room. His hair is disheveled, his eyes somber. Paul's frown softens when he sees you and he immediately widens the opening to his room.

You step in, fidgeting with the sleeves of your fireproof as Paul zips the canvas flap shut.

"I...," you begin, not really sure what to say. Paul avoids your eyes, messing around with some stuff on his massage table but you know he wasn't really doing anything of note.

Maybe it was a mistake to come in at all.

"Can you just...," Paul begins, straightening up, still unable to look directly at you.

You wait patiently for him to formulate his words, your own fingers twisting into the fabric of your race suit.

"I should leave, I'm sorr–"

"...stay here."

You blink, Paul's words registering in your brain half a second late. He finally looks at you, eyebrows creased.

"Don't leave," Paul says. "I said you could stay."

You exhale, finally letting yourself relax. Paul seems to mirror your demeanor because he finally slumps against the massage table, head hanging low as he stares at the floor.

You shuffle uncertainly forward, coming into Paul's line of sight. He's looking at you with this hurt look in his eyes, one you've never seen before. It's jarring, slightly unnerving, the way your teammate is being so vulnerable in front of you right now.

"A lot can be done from P5," you assure Paul. "I'm down in 11th."

"I'll reward you if you get a podium," you continue with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood, not really meaning whatever it is you're saying.

Paul raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

"Reward me with what?" he asks, sliding backward to sit on the massage table.

You feel a violent blush settle on your cheeks as your brain finally catches up with your mouth.

"With dinner, Paul. I'll treat you to dinner," you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

Paul chuckles, leaning back on his hands, gaze unwavering as he continues to stare at you.

Your hand flies up to your neck, a nervous habit as you realize just how hard Paul is staring. Clearing your throat, you seem to snap Paul out of his trance, eyes blinking as he refocuses on your face.

"What do you want me to do, then?" You ask, trying to steer the awkwardness away.

Paul gives you a look and squares his jaw, a teasing glint in his eyes.

He jerks his chin inward, prompting you to realize that he's saying, 'Come here'. You swallow, stepping closer, breath hitching as you watch Paul part his legs. Your mouth falls open when it dawns on you just how close he wants you.

His hand reaches out tentatively, fingertips brushing gently against your arm. You let him tug you closer, closer, and closer still, until you're situated between his legs. With him sitting, you're nearly the same height. You can feel his breath on your face. He's within kissing distance.

"I can think of a few things," Paul finally says, his hand dropping from your arm down to your waist.

"Hey," you blurt out. Paul flinches and jerks his hand back, the amusement in his face replaced with genuine worry.

"Only if you want to, of course, I mean I wasn't suggesting anything that's–"

"Paul."

He pauses, eyes wide, as if scared he'd offended you somehow.

You realize that this is it. This is what it all boils down to. All that teasing and tentative touches have come to this.

"The reward only comes after the podium," you remind him.

Paul lets out a relieved laugh, both his hands now snaking around your waist. He holds you firmly in place, tilting his head to the side as if studying every inch of your face.

"A good luck charm, then?"

Your face breaks out into a grin, your own palms creeping up Paul's firm thighs. His bottom lip slips between his teeth as he watches you tug his race suit further down.

"I was thinking a kiss, but if you wanna do that, I'm not gonna stop you," Paul comments, nudging you teasingly.

"Would you prefer a kiss over me blowing you?" You ask, knuckles brushing against Paul's bulge.

Paul shakes his head.

He lifts his hips up for a second, allowing you to pull his suit all the way off, along with his bottom fireproofs and underwear.

You gasp softly as you're met with Paul's length.

"Surprised?" Paul questions, guiding your hand to it. You wrap your fingers around and give an experimental squeeze.

Paul groans, throwing his head back. He stiffens even more in your hold.

"Not at all," you answer, dropping to your knees in one graceful swoop.

"You're just as I imagined," you admit.

You lick a long stripe from the base of Paul's cock to the tip, swirling once over his head before spitting on it. Paul shivers above you, mouth hanging open.

"Fuck," he mutters softly. "You've thought about this?"

"Mhm," you confirm, wrapping your lips around him fully.

You feel a harsh tug at your scalp and you whine as Paul threads and twists his fingers in your hair. You retaliate by sinking lower around him, stopping only when you feel his tip against the back of your throat.

"Holy shit," he whispers, pulling your head back so he could peer into your eyes.

"Make it quick," Paul warns, tightening his hold on your hair even more. "Debrief is starting soon."

You don't have to be told twice as you pull back all the way before sinking forward again. You set up a rhythm, swirling your tongue over the tip every once and again, teeth lightly grazing his length as you come back down.

Paul clamps a hand over his mouth, not trusting himself to keep quiet, not with the way you're kneeling in front of him right now, his dick down your throat. He has a vice grip on your hair, sending your own arousal down between your legs.

You speed up when you hear voices just outside Paul's driver room, aware that a thin piece of plastic is the only thing separating the rest of the team and the image of their two drivers in the middle of a scandalous act.

As if reading your thoughts, Paul snickers, raising his eyebrows as you look up at him.

"They'd freak if they saw you like this," Paul taunts. "The second in the championship blowing the championship lead?"

You pinch Paul's thigh and he curses, laughing breathlessly right after.

"Okay, okay, sorry baby," Paul croons, loosening his grip on your hair.

You pull off him, panting, your hair in a sorry state.

"You've annoyed me now," you warn with a smirk. "You can use your own hand to finish the job."

Paul pouts. "Hey, now. I said I'm sorry."

"I know," you say. "If you can cum in the next two minutes, I'll let you do it inside my mouth."

"Fuck," Paul mutters, his hand already starting to pump along his length.

You snicker, laying your head on Paul's thigh while your palm strokes the other.

"Come on, Paul," you coax sweetly. "I'll give you more later if you can get that podium."

Paul grunts, speeding up even more. He eyes you darkly and you simply smile, digging your nails into the flesh of his thigh.

"Open," is all he says and you obey immediately, straightening up, your tongue sticking out as you anticipate Paul's release.

You yelp as you feel Paul nudge your head forward, his cock sliding into your mouth as it twitches, spurting hot cum straight down your throat. You swallow immediately, gagging slightly when you feel even more landing on your tongue.

You gasp as you pull away, some of the leftover dribbling down your chin. You swipe it off with your thumb, licking it clean, laughing as Paul slumps backward.

"Shit," Paul concludes, chest still heaving from the effort.

You pull yourself up, legs trembling slightly from the strain of kneeling for so long. Paul eyes you as you smooth your hair down, wiping at your face with the back of your hand in case you missed any trace of him.

"No podium, no sex," you remind him, leaning down to leave a kiss on his cheek.

You move to pull away but Paul tugs you back down, your feet stumbling over each other. You start to protest but all words die on your tongue when you feel Paul seal his lips firmly over yours.

"You should have just said that at the beginning of this weekend," Paul jokes, laughing when he feels you smack him on the arm.

-

"Well, would you look at that?"

You chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling as Paul approaches you, his 1st place trophy tucked under his arm. He glances at it momentarily before looking back at you.

"That's a podium," Paul points out, looking at you expectantly.

You shake your head, but the smile finally breaks loose on your face.

"Room 807. Come by before you go out and celebrate."

Paul snickers, leaning in briefly to kiss your cheek this time.

"Are you kidding? You're coming to celebrate with me," Paul declares over his shoulder, sauntering off.

"Double celebration, baby!"

[milunalupin]

— all-american

james potter x reader ★ 869 words

"Can you two stop giggling? People are staring."

The boys followed the tallest Marauder through the streets of muggle London, on their way to some American diner Peter had told them about. The purebloods couldn't help but 'ooh' and 'ahh' at all the unusual things they didn't have back in their world. A large neon sign came into view, the 'C' in 'Nick's Diner' flickering on and off. The loud jingle of the bell as they opened the door announced their arrival, only a few other patrons scattered around the diner. A voice from somewhere back in the kitchen called out.

"Welcome in, take a seat anywhere you'd like!"

They decided on a red leather booth near the back corner, a 'Taxi Driver' poster plastered right above the table. The black and white checkerboard flooring and jukebox made it feel like they were in that film 'Grease' their friend Lily makes them watch every other week.

"Evening boys, how's everyone doin'? My name is Y/N, can I get anyone started with a drink?"

James thinks he must've gotten hit by a muggle car crossing the street to get here because he believes he's seeing an angel in person. You just look so pretty, in your little red dress and white apron, curly hair tied up in a ponytail. Your smile. Merlin, he was going to need to get his eyes checked again after dinner because your smile was truly blinding. Were those wedding bells he was hearing?

"I think James over here is good, all that drool should last him a good week or two."

A hard slap on the back took him out of his daze. His eyebrows pinched together and he was about to say something back to Sirius when he realized he was drooling, quickly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater before turning back to you with red cheeks and a sheepish smile.

"A Coca-Cola for me, please."

You think the blushing boy before you couldn't get any cuter. You grinned and nodded, telling them you'd be back with their drinks as you strolled back to the kitchen.

Once James finally took his eyes away from your swinging ponytail, he was met with three shit-eating grins. He glares back but their smiles do not falter, causing James to scoff with furrowed eyebrows. "What."

Dinner goes by in a flash with the friends enjoying their meals and sneakily changing the music from the jukebox, wands hidden under the table. The boys notice they just so happen to have a very attentive waitress, your lovely self coming around to their table often. It was interesting that even after they'd finished eating, you would appear to fill their almost overflowing cups with water or drop off extra napkins. James did nothing but send a dopey grin your way, and he does consider talking to you but freezes the second your big brown eyes stare back at him.

Remus groaned as he watched his friend be so pathetically consumed by you, setting down his now empty mug. "Prongs, tell me. Are you going to ask her out or just sit there with your tongue out like Padfoot begging for someone to throw him a bone?"

"I do not beg!" The dog animagi sputtered, hitting the dirty blonde beside him, "Tell 'em Pete!"

"Piss off Moony, it's not that easy. She's perfect."

Your shift was over, and truthfully it could've been worse. The table of four boys really made up for the more sour customers you had earlier in the day. The disappointment on your face was obvious when you had gone to clean their table and there was no number left behind on any of the napkins.

After finishing your closing duties you walked out the back door and turned the corner to find a large eagle owl perched upon the diner's bike rack. It wasn't too common to see owls in this area, but the shine of its feathers and well maintained claws tell you it's not from around here. Taking careful steps towards the bird, you offer your hand. It expanded its wings and flapped them twice at you before butting its head against the palm of you hand. You smiled and smoothed the beautiful creature's feathers back, now realizing there was an envelope sitting between the owl's talons. Taking the envelope and opening it up, you find a letter written to who you presumed to be yourself.

Dearest Y/N,

You have me infatuated with your beautiful smile and killer table waiting skills. I'm pretty funny and can show you a good time. Not like that though, unless you wanted t

What I mean to say is, I would throw all of England's tea in the ocean again if it meant I could win the honor of taking you out. On a date that is, not like killing you. I promise to make the night magical. I'll come by the diner next week with flowers and hopefully you don't punch me in the face for being a creep.

Yours,

James Potter

Smiling to yourself, you gave the owl one last pet and a thank you before pulling your wand out and disapparating home.

[rivatar]

Can I make a request for dilf!JakexFemale! Omatikaya!reader?

While Neytiri is out hunting with the kids, jake makes his way to readers hut. And let’s just say reader is shorter than Neytiri so size kinkkkk🤭

Guilty Pleasure

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Dilf!Jake!Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings/content: SMUT, jake cheating(sorry Neytiri), size kink, stalking/obsessing, some roughness/power over reader, oral/face sitting (Jake being a pussy eating king), p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, a sprinkle of angst at the end

W/c: 3.2k (holy shit-)

A/n: thank you for this request anon!!💖 I am a SUCKERRRR for dilf Jake! I got a lil carried away heheh but I hope y’all enjoy this! Comments, likes, and reblogs are SO appreciated! Muah 😘

“We will see you later, ma’Jake,” Neytiri sweetly said while motioning for the kids to go out of the hut, holding up the flap of fabric for them to walk by. Neteyam and Lo’ak went first, throwing a hand up and bidding a short “Bye, dad,” with their bows in hand.

“Come with us daddd!” Tuk whined and ran up and clung to his side. He chuckled at her.

“I’d love to, kiddo, but I gotta take care of something. Ya know, all my boring adult responsibilities,” He smiled gently.

She frowned up at him but had no choice but to accept he wasn’t coming.

“Bring me back a big ‘angtsìk(hammerhead titanothere)!” He joked while bending over and ruffling her short braids in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled at his absurd request and ran off to catch up with Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Kiri came moping out and rolling her eyes like usual, she was not excited that she was being forced to go hunt with them. It just wasn’t her thing. She gave Jake a quick “Bye” and walked out without looking at him.

“I love you too!” He laughed, “You’ll do great!” He cupped his mouth and shouted to her. She looked over her shoulder and couldn’t suppress her small little grin of amusement. She pretty much always blatantly disrespected him but he loved her to death.

Neytiri smiled one last time at him before ducking under the flap, following her kids to go off to their hunt.

Jake’s smile faded from his face once they were out of sight.

He had a lovely wife and an amazing family—everything he could ever want and dream for. But unfortunately for him, his heart yearned for someone else. Someone who occupied his thoughts day-in and day-out, consuming his entire being.

He started to resent you for how bad he wanted you. But how could he blame you? You’ve done nothing. Nothing but just be utterly and effortlessly perfect. He felt like you casted a spell on him, damning him to be desperate for you. You were quite the sight to see; young and beautiful in all your glory. He could worship your body all day— the stunning curves of your hips and the rounding of your breasts. You were short in stature, not tawtute short but very much on the short side for a na’vi girl. But that just made Jake be drawn to you even more. During his endless daydreams involving you, he would have some particular thoughts of you. Images flooded his mind of getting to manhandle you around. He was bulkier than the average na’vi due to the combination of his human DNA, so he had no doubt in his mind he could toss you around effortlessly in several different positions. He also inevitably thought about how much tighter your smaller pussy probably was. And fuck, it wasn’t just your stunning appearance— it was also the way you were so damn sweet and compassionate to others. You never did anything wrong, it was like you really were perfect.

He longed to touch you and pleasure you, he would die a happy man if he could just watch you cum for him. It wasn’t even that he wanted the pleasure for himself, more than anything he wanted to pleasure you. So many scenarios have ran through his mind of imagining how your pretty face would scrunch up as an orgasm wracked through your petite body. He felt like he was loosing his mind, he hasn’t had this many vulgar, horny thoughts constantly since he was probably 17. It was like you made him young again. He wanted to show you how good he could make you feel. After all, he was experienced. Whether it was keeping Neytiri’s needs satisfied or previous lessons from his sexual partners back on earth, he’s learned a thing or two over time. He wondered if you’ve let any of the omatikaya boys fuck you. He hoped not, but he was sure they were all throwing themselves at your feet. I mean who the hell wouldn’t?

Jake had been stalking you for quite some time now. He pretty much had your daily schedule memorized and he’s even learned all your little mannerisms. Like how you looked down at the ground when you laughed, or how you quietly hummed to yourself when you were weaving. Sometimes throughout the day you would make eye contact when passing by each other. He noticed you would give him a little smile. It was like you knew you were torturing him.

But watching you from a distance and stalking you wasn’t cutting the mustard anymore for him. Sure, it satisfied the itch at first but it left him only wanting more. And stroking his cock to you felt good, but not as good as your soft, dainty hand would feel doing it.

He knew Neytiri was taking the kids hunting today to let them practice. And at this time of day, you were usually in your hut. He decided there wouldn’t be a more perfect time than now to approach you. He couldn’t let this keep eating him alive, he had to do something about it. So, he gathered up the courage to start his way over to you.

…

You were in your hut, cooling off a little. It was a hot, sunny day in Pandora and you always take a midday break around this time. Right before you were going to sit down, you seen a figure in your peripheral vision. It was… Jake?

“Jake.. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you stuttered and shifted to face him respectfully, caught off guard by your leader entering your hut. “Is something wrong?”

He stood confidently, almost like he owned the place— I mean he was the Olo’eyktan. Which was why you felt concerned and surprised to see him, surely it must be something important if he took the time to come here.

He surveyed you as you stuttered and slightly fidgeted with a hint of amusement in his eyes. His piercing gaze burned right through you, making you feel small and embarrassed. But he was the one coming into your home, so why were your cheeks heating up in embarrassment?

He finally broke the silence and breathed out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid something is wrong,” he spoke with that low, sultry voice of his and once again burned holes into you with his eyes. He took slow steps towards you, casually.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and the blood left your face. “W-What is it? I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, sir-“

“Don’t play dumb and innocent. You know exactly what it is.” He cut you off sharply.

You were taken aback, eyes widening in offense. “Excuse me?” You scoffed.

He kept inching closer and closer to you and you backed up in return, scowling at him. But unfortunately you backed up against the wall, having no more room to back up.

He was eyeing you down fiercely, power and authority exuding from his aura. But you weren’t a pushover, and you gave it your best effort at holding his eyes and not cowering.

He swiftly grabbed your wrist and shoved your hand on his hard erection covered by his loincloth. You gasped, once more taken aback.

“Understand?” He quipped.

You snatched your hand back and hissed at him. You were unable to form any words, so shocked at this predicament. Your scowl deepened and your breathing picked up, feeling the intensity in the atmosphere.

He let out a single chuckle of disbelief and shook his head.

“You do this to me. It’s your fault” he snapped, “You’ve been torturing me night and day and you know it” he accused with his pointer finger in your face.

Your mouth dropped a little, eyebrows scrunched in anger. “What?? I’ve done nothing! You’re fucking crazy!”

“You are such a little brat. Sounds like you need that attitude fucked out of you,”

You couldn’t help the coil that twisted in your stomach to his words. The obscenity of them made your body react with a mind of its own. Slick trickled out of your hole, making a little wet patch in your cloth.

His nose twitched and he grinned menacingly at your new smell of arousal. “Is that right? The lil’ slut needs her pussy stuffed with cock?”

Your cheeks heated up, making a purplish color on your face. You were losing this battle quickly. You blamed your body for betraying you so shamefully.

“Fuck you!” You finally said. It was your last attempt at trying to get the upper hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “That’s the plan.”

You scoffed again, still trying to make it seem like he was crazy and you didn’t want this. But in reality, you don’t think anything has ever piqued your interest more.

He put his fingers inside the band of your loincloth, tickling the soft area below your belly. Your heart thudded hard inside your chest and more waves of arousal coursed through you.

He slowly and lightly teased the area, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Not stopping me, I see,” he quietly mocked.

Your let your eyes fall to his chest which was right in front of you. You didn’t want to see the smug grin on his face.

“Now what if I touch your little pussy? Is she gonna blow your cover?” He taunted some more. You swallowed roughly as his fingers traced further and further down into your cloth until he got to your soaked cunt.

He ran a finger up your slit, eyes dilating as he basked in the incredible feeling of your slick pussy. Your legs parted on their own, giving him easier access and you whined softly, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, seemingly losing his control.

Your half lidded eyes met his again as he ran his fingers through your folds. You knew you were at the point of no return.

“Please..” you mewled quietly.

Trying to regain control of the situation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, still continuing his touching. “Oh so the brat has manners now?”

“Mhmm” you hummed shamelessly, pride be damned.

He licked his lips and looked down at your pretty lips, just waiting to be kissed. But he had other things in mind.

He yanked down your loincloth and it fell to your ankles then you kicked it aside. Then suddenly he knelt down and hitched one of your legs over his muscular shoulder, much to your surprise. You gasped hard at the first stroke of his tongue on your pussy lips.

“Oh!” You cried

You grabbed his dreads for support because your knees already felt weak. Looking down at him, the sight was purely sinful. He lapped, licked, sucked, and kissed all over your cunt, slurping up all your juices and making a complete mess on his face. He hummed and moaned on it, creating vibrations which elevated your pleasure.

He pulled back only for a second, your juices falling down his chin and painting his blue skin with white and clear shimmer. “You taste so fucking sweet, even better than I imagined,” he groaned in near disbelief. Then he continued working his mouth on your pussy.

You felt so good, feeling the most ecstasy you’ve ever felt. You’ve had a few partners and of course masturbate when needed but nothing and nobody has ever felt like this. He knew exactly where to go and how much pressure to apply and suck at.

He stuck a finger in your hole while he continued lapping on your clit. You moaned and fought to keep yourself standing up. He caught onto your struggle and swiftly moved to reposition you both. He laid himself back against the ground and had his hands hooked around you, bringing you down with him to then plop you right on his face.

Sitting on his face was much more comfortable and you tried to hold yourself up to hover some, but he grabbed your ass and pushed all your weight down on him. You switched between watching him do his thing and throwing your head back, closing your eyes and welcoming all the sensations. All his sounds were muffled but looking behind you and seeing his still rock hard erection and watching his feet curl and his legs dance around told you that he was very much enjoying himself.

You knew your orgasm was about to come. The pleasure was coming to a peak and you relaxed and let it happen. You came with a loud and drawn out moan, thighs shaking from the intensity. His humming got louder as he licked up all your essence, drawing out your high but letting off before you got overstimulated.

You rose off and scooted back a little to sit on his chest, looking down at his absolutely soaked face.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out roughly, trying to catch your breath, “you didn’t tell me you were a pussy eating expert”

He chuckled with that deep voice of his, making your pussy flutter. “You thought the old man wouldn’t know how to eat pussy? Baby girl I am very experienced,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, trying not to smile. Before letting you fully catch your breath, he sat up and effortlessly carried you with him, you were like a little rag doll in his huge, bulky arms. He hung you over one of his shoulders, ass up in the air. He smacked it and you let out a little yelp of surprise and smacked his back in return.

“You are so tiny, ya know that?”

You rolled your eyes once again. “Yes, everyone loves telling me how short I am” you complained.

“Mhmm well I think it’s hot as fuck”

He set you down on the table and you were facing him, legs spread out and pussy on full display. His eyes drank in the sight of your most intimate part, being fully captivated by you. You then took the reigns and slipped off your skimpy top, leaving him even more speechless. You smirked in satisfaction at how pussy whipped he was already.

He didn’t fail to notice your shit-eating grin and quiet laugh. “Oh yeah? You won’t be laughing much longer,” he threatened while untying the strings of his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor.

And it did in fact shut you up. He was huge. Your jaw hung low like an idiot and he laughed at you.

“You’re not that big. I’ve had bigger.” You lied, trying to sound confident.

He narrowed his eyes and felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone else getting to fuck you. “That so? Well then you should have no problem taking me,” he taunted.

You were nervous about how it would hurt but you put on a brave face. You spread your legs wider and gave him doe eyes as an invitation to go ahead.

His bigger body hovered over your small frame as he positioned his cock at your entrance. He teased your folds and your opening, making you buck your hips up in an effort to get him inside of you. His cockhead breached into your hole and you gasped in unison. He was so thick and girthy, the stretch against your walls was one you’ve never experienced this intensely.

He sank in deeper, thrusting a little to help break it in. You winced and moaned but stayed relaxed and let him keep going. He finally bottomed out. Then pulled back and started thrusting.

Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slack. The drag against your walls and the pressure his dick provided on your cervix made you nearly see stars, clouding your vision in a bit of a haze.

“Mmmm!! ‘s so good!” You slurred drunkenly, choking on your moans and cries.

He grunted and moaned above you, keeping a steady rhythm as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Holy shit” he gritted between his teeth, slightly baring them at you while he got caught up in the passion. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head slumped down, hanging from between his shoulders. “You’re gonna make me cum too quick” he panted.

You moaned in response, loving how you were breaking him. He cupped both your tits and gave them a squeeze, edging both of you on more.

“More!! Please!” You didn’t really know what you were asking for but he seemed to know right away.

He pulled out quickly and swiftly flipped you over, pulling you from the hips to scooch your ass up against him. He entered you again easily and plunged all the way in making you moan loudly.

“Cum on this dick, baby,” he grunted as he then started a fast and hard pace, increasing it from the previous pace.

His dick was now reaching so far up into you and satisfying all your sweet spots. He was fucking into you like a bunny in heat, hiking up one of his legs and placing his foot on the table to have a better grasp on you and a better angle to fuck you.

“Fuckkkk!” You screamed, getting your cervix pounding into over and over again. You felt your walls convulsing around him and knew you were getting close.

He pushed your head down into the table, his enormous hand pretty much engulfing the entire size of your head. Your hair fell around your face and was scattered in a complete mess.

“Shit baby, you’re close, huh?” He groaned.

“Yesss! Don’t fucking stop!” You begged and whimpered.

And then you felt your coil snap. The waves of sweet release spread throughout your whole body. Your pussy’s grip on his dick tightened, making him cum right after you.

“Nghh- gonna fill you up” he moaned while still bringing your ass back to meet his hips, slowing down and milking out both your orgasms. His hot cum spurted into your womb, filling you up just like he said.

He finally stopped his slow thrusts and pulled out gently making you whine as you felt some of his cum seep out.

He stepped back to admire his work, taking a mental screenshot of your cream pied cunt. He used his thumb to gather what had dripped and pushed it back into you.

“Your pussy looks best with my cum in it,” he admired.

You rolled over to your side, completely exhausted. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to lay with you now.

He got your message by the look in your face. “I’m sorry baby but I gotta leave now. As much as I’d rather be stuffed inside you, I gotta get back to my place before my-“ he paused, looking physically pained, “before my family gets back home.”

Of course, you thought to yourself, how the fuck could you forget? Guiltiness flooded your heart, making it physically ache for his wife and kids. You felt terrible. You never liked a homewrecker and now you were a complete hypocrite and felt like a whore.

“Yes, o-of course… I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.

He weakly smiled as a response, pain still in his eyes as the post-nut clarity washed over him and guiltiness attacked his conscious as well.

“I’ll see you later, y/n.” And with that he left your hut.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @anemonelovesfiction @property-of-neteyam @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @fluorynn @zafrinaxyz @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @inolaphoenix @ladykat73 (if you wanna be added or removed, just lmk!)

[littlest-w01f]

My Dragons

Sylus x Reader

SYLUS MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: A peaceful day with your chaotic dragon and your even more chaotic mini him

Cw: Fluff

a/n: Fic also on Ao3

"Mama, look! I am Dada!" Your barely 4-year-old son jumped a few inches in the air, his dragon wings flapping gently as he came back down from his tiny jump.

The young boy's crimson eyes sparkled with innocent delight as he proudly declared himself to be like his father. His small, iridescent wings fluttered excitedly at his sides, catching the warm sunlight streaming through the open fields.

"That's right, sweetie! You're just like your daddy," You cooed softly, your heart melting at the adorable sight before you. "A brave little dragon prince!"

You knelt down beside him, gently booping his baby nose with a finger, ruffling his messy white hair. "But remember, even dragon princes need to mind their manners. It's nap time soon, okay?" You said playfully, though there was a hint of gentle warning in your tone.

The child pouted adorably for a moment before perking up again. "Okay Mama! I be good." The young dragon prince nodded eagerly, his tiny horns glinting in the sunbeams as he promised to behave. You couldn't help but smile at his precociousness, marvelling at how quickly he was growing up, looking more and more like his dad.

As if on cue, sounds of wings flapping grow, and Sylus, the tall, imposing figure with scales that shimmered like polished crimson. His own massive wings were folded neatly against his back.

"There's my little firecracker!" the draconic patriarch rumbled, his voice a low, soothing rumble. He strode over to you both, bending down to scoop up his son in his powerful arms.

"Your wings are too tiny to fly on your own." Sylus smirked down at your son, picking him up in his hands before throwing him up, to then catch him.

"Nuh uh," The baby shook his head with his body, "I can fly. Like Da." He stretched his arms out, pretending to fly.

Sylus grinned widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Almost, little one. But not quite."

He scooped up the wiggling toddler, holding him securely against his muscular chest. "Want to show Mama how high you can count while we hover together?"

"You're supposed to be out hunting, my love." You shook your head at their antics, cupping your dragon's cheeks and kissing him deeply, "And you're not supposed to play into it."

When your son pulled at your dress, you picked the baby up, tickling his belly. "And you're meant to be napping." You playfully squished his cheeks together, making him giggle uncontrollably.

"Ah, but a dragon always has time for his family," Sylus purred, his tail curling around to brush against your leg affectionately. "Besides, I've hunted enough for today. Now, I get to enjoy my favorite prize - my beautiful Dragon Li and our precious child."

He shifted his hold on the giggling baby, supporting him securely under his chubby bottom. "Come now, little prince. Let's show Mama how well you can stay up. Ready? One... two..."

On three, Sylus slowly began to rise off the ground, hovering a few feet above the floor. Their son squealed with delight, kicking his stubby legs enthusiastically.

"Look, Mama! We're flying!" He exclaimed, reaching for you with grabby hands. His tiny wings quivered with excitement, beating the air ineffectually.

You giggled, watching them simply hover. You brought your son a little closer, not taking him fully out of Sylus's grasp, kissing his little dragon-scaled feet. "My baby..." You whispered affectionately.

"Isn't he charming?" Sylus laughed warmly, admiring the interaction between you and your son. "It seems like only yesterday he was hatching from his egg."

He tenderly ruffled the baby's hair, causing him to giggle and wriggle in his arms. "One day, he'll be strong enough to join us on our hunts."

Your son looked up at his father with determination in his eyes. "Me hunt now, Daddy!"

Sylus leaned down, placing a loving kiss on your forehead. "Patience, little one. We must wait until you've grown stronger."

As Sylus spoke, he carefully descended back to the ground, setting your son down gently on his feet. The little dragon prince immediately toddled over to you, his short legs moving quickly.

"Mama, watch this!" He announced proudly, striking a dramatic pose with his fists on his hips. Then, with a mighty roar that sounded more like a squeak, he launched himself forward, arms outstretched.

However, instead of soaring through the air, he promptly face-planted onto the grassfield, his tiny wings making a pitiful flapping sound as they struggled to lift him. A bright red blush spread across his cheeks, and he sniffled, looking up at you with big, watery eyes.

Your heart broke at the sight as both you and your dragon rushed to the aid of your little dragonling, "Aww baby, it's ok, don't cry." You whipped away the tears in his crimson eyes, "Does anything pain?"

"Ow-ow-ow, hurt," The little prince whimpered, rubbing his sore knee with a grimy hand. Sylus crouched down beside you, inspecting his son's scrapes with a critical eye. "Boo-boo..." Your son whispered, disheartened.

You sighed thankfully when it was just a little scrap, you wiped away the dirt, kissing his scraped scaley knee, "Shh baby, you're ok." You kissed his other knee, "See, mama's kiss makes all the boo-boo pain go away." The little dragon prince looked up at you with teary eyes, still sniffling after his minor fall.

"Let's get you cleaned up, while papa gets your bed ready, yeah?" You said, lifting your son into your arms and carrying him to a gentle stream nearby as Sylus took off with a nod. "We don't want any germs getting in those precious scales."

You dipped a part of your dress into the cold water of the stream, carefully washing the scrape on your son's knee. He winced slightly but didn't cry, instead watching the water race with fascination.

"All done," You announced, drying off his knee with a dry part of your dress. "Good as new."

Your son beamed up at you, throwing his arms around your neck. "Thanks, Mama," He said gratefully. "Love you."

You hugged him back tightly, feeling your heart swell with love for your little family. "I love you too, sweetheart," you replied, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Together, you rejoined Sylus in the cave he left for, setting him on his tiny bed of fur.

Sylus smiled warmly as you settled your son into his cosy nest, tucking a soft blanket around him. "There you go, little prince. All snug and safe," He murmured, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

As the two of you stood there, gazing down at your sleeping child, a sense of contentment washed over you. It had been a lovely afternoon, filled with simple joys and precious moments spent together as a family.

You stayed up over your son's cot, watching the dragonling sleep, you turned to your husband, a soft smile playing on your lips. "He's such a sweet boy, isn't he?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper to not disturb the slumbering child.

Sylus nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving your son's peaceful form. "More than I ever could have imagined," He admitted, his voice tinged with pride and affection. "Watching him grow, seeing the world through his eyes... It's a truly magical experience."

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your son's forehead. "I'm grateful every day for this life we've built together," Sylus continued, turning to look at you with a tender expression. "For our little family, and for the love that binds us."

You smiled as his tail curled around your form in a familiar way, his wings curling in as you leaned against him, "I could watch him sleep forever."

Sylus chuckled softly, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close. "I know exactly what you mean," he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. "There's something so precious about watching him sleep, knowing that in this moment, all is well in his world."

He held you like that for a long while, savoring the quiet closeness of the moment. The gentle sound of your son's breathing filled the room, a comforting melody that seemed to slow the very beat of your hearts.

"I'm grateful for you," Sylus whispered eventually, his words warm against your skin. "You've given me so much - a family, a sense of belonging, a reason to look forward to every new day. And now, with our son... I feel truly blessed."

"I am blessed to have you, Sy." You smiled, turning on your heels to kiss his lips gently, "Come... You need to give me ten more adorable looking dragonlings."

Sylus threw his head back with a rich, hearty laugh, his eyes sparkling with mirth and affection. "Ten more, you say?" He grinned wickedly, pulling you into a tight embrace. "My playful little mate, always eager for more adventures."

His large, warm hands rested on your hips, holding you close. "But first," Sylus said, his voice full of excitement, "I want to cherish every moment with my beloved mate."

With that, he led you by the hand towards the cosy nook where you both loved to spend time together. His intentions were clear in the loving look he gave you, and you knew that this would be another memory to treasure.

As Sylus guided you into your intimate space, the soft glow of the crystals casting a warm, inviting light, he turned to face you. His crimson eyes shone with affection and anticipation.

"My heart, my soul, my everything," He breathed, his large hands coming up to cup your face tenderly. "In this moment, I want to share our deep bond and connection with one another."

He held you close, swaying gently as if to a silent melody, his cheek resting against your hair. After a while, he pulled back and smiled softly.

"Dance with me, my love?" Sylus asked softly, extending one clawed hand towards you in invitation. The crystals surrounding you pulsed gently, casting mesmerising patterns on the walls.

As you placed your hand in his, he drew you near, one arm encircling your waist while the other held your hand close to his heart. The music swelled, a hauntingly beautiful melody that seemed to emanate from the very stones themselves.

Sylus moved with surprising grace for his size, guiding you in a slow dance. His touch was comforting, providing warmth and reassurance. He looked at you with gentle affection, his eyes reflecting the kaleidoscope of colours from the crystals.

"How did I get so lucky to find a companion as wonderful as you?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

Wrapped up in the tender moment, you found joy in simply being close to Sylus, dancing slowly within the enchanting crystal-lit cavern. A soft giggle escaped your lips as he expertly guided you through a series of turns.

"I must have done something right to win your affection," you mused aloud, gazing up at him with admiration. Gently, you traced the tip of your finger along one of his scales, marveling at its smoothness.

The atmosphere remained light and affectionate, filled with laughter and shared glances between the two of you. With each step, your bond grew stronger, weaving itself deeper into the fabric of your souls.

{Dad Sylus taglist- @soldiershunterswitchesandroyals}

[bones4thecats]

Ooh, Okie dokie! (I forgot to label myself in my little question haha - it's me, 😊 anon!)

Can I request Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu having a crush on an Autistic Reader?

The reader is mostly nonverbal - only speaking using short words/sentences - unless they're talking to someone they've grown to really trust, to animals (such as their crow companions), or about animals - which they have learned lots of trivia about. They may also stim - usually by rocking side to side when bored or flapping/clapping their hands when excited. They're happy to receive physical contact but can be overwhelmed by constant loud noise (such as shouting or music.)

(I hope that wasn't too long - I hope you have a lovely day! ✨)

The Kamaboko Trio With An Autistic S/O

Characters: Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, and Insouke Hashibira Requester: 😊Anon A/N: I haven't written for Demon Slayer in such a long time so the characters may be slightly OOC. These are also fairly short, just noting! But, I do hope you enjoy this! Have a great rest of your days/nights!!! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Tanjiro Kamado ══════════════════════════╝

😺 When Tanjiro first met you, he was slightly confused as to why you rarely spoke longer sentences. But, in his fashion, he put that behind and stayed positive around you

😺 Whenever he notices your stims getting worse or more erratic, he holds your hand and allows you to mess with his. He also likes seeing how you would help Nezuko with her hair, using the physical action as another way to use a stim

😺 He is amazing with animals himself, getting along with pretty much every creature he finds. So, when you walked around the Butterfly Mansion with small birds and one of your pets, a Japanese dwarf flying squirrel that you named Kiyoshi, he got along with the cute rodent quick and easily

😺 Whenever you are set to be on a mission with him and the others (Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Nezuko), he tries to keep them quieter so you don't get overwhelmed

😺 Sometimes, he enjoys staying awake at night and ask you about some animals that he has either seen around or was wondering about. Such as a Japanese Macaque or a Sika Deer

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Zenitsu Agatsuma ════════════════════════╝

⚡ This guy, oof!

⚡ He had a hard time understanding you at first. But that was mainly because you rarely spoke and were extremely loving to almost every animal that you guys came across

⚡ I mean, you literally would attract any other Slayer's crow, which made Zenitsu roll his eyes stubbornly. How come you were such an animal magnet while his own crow (or rather sparrow) pecked at him whenever he tried holding him!

⚡ Anyways, he does like seeing how you handle demons, putting your own issues behind just to help out anybody in danger, whether they were children or adults or in between

⚡ Zenitsu may not show it fully, but he does like watching you play with your pet Koi fish when they were swimming around in your/Mitsuri's estate's back pond

⚡ No doubt simps even harder whenever you mess with his hands or wear his haori. He literally stands there with a goofy grin on his face as he giggles at your actions

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Inosuke Hashibira ════════════════════════╝

🐗 Inosuke is a very rambunctious person by nature. And he is surprisingly good around animals, due to growing up alongside them all his childhood

🐗 So, when you came around and seemingly calmed down a boar in front of him, he yelled your name and asked how you knew what they were thinking, in which you laughed and tried explaining to the best of your ability

🐗 He also had great hearing and understanding of body language. So if you were to speak with a lower tone or not be able to finish a sentence, he understands what you want to say without asking you to repeat like others

🐗 Smiling at him also makes him feel good, so whenever you do so if you can't gain the urge to speak to him, his chest puffs out as he goes on a rant of 'of course you smile at the King of the Mountain' and whatnot

🐗 By far the second best with an Autistic reader when it comes to this trio, the way he grew up helps him understand you better than the others easily

[xcherricutie]

🌺 drift away 🌺

[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]

[Word Count - 1.4k]

[Tags: Angst, songfic (I can't help myself)]

[Notes: My first Hazbin Hotel one shot. Still new to Tumblr, and new to writing one shots, I'm used to writing longer form. Hope this post is up to the standard. It's like, 1 in the morning and I have work tomorrow morning, enjoy. I will hopefully get out a part that's kinda like a prequel, I wanna do Other Friends lol. Obvs inspired by Steven Universe.]

Let’s go in the garden, 

You’ll find something waiting, 

Right there where you left it, 

Lying upside down...

Excitement shot through your system, your feet dragging along the ground as a giggle bubbled from within you. You paused every few seconds as the man before you looked back, a single brow raised at your antics. He took a few steps forward, the sounds of your feet tapping as you followed along filling the air. He sighed, turning around. His eyes, golden sclera and deep red irises, landed on your own, though unfocused. Almost as if looking straight through you. 

He’d tried to keep you here, to stop you from following. He knew you were only doing what you were meant to do. You were made for him. An angel born purely to keep Lucifer in check, to keep him happy. You loved being by his side, you loved spending time with him on Earth, in the garden. You thought he loved it too. You thought he loved you. 

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer forced a smile for you. His wings softly flapped behind him, lifting him off the ground, raising him to be just above your face level. His finger tapped your nose, his enchanting voice coming through. “Here in the garden, let’s play a game, I’ll show you how it’s done.” 

“Here in the garden, stand very still,” His hands on your shoulders, you looked up at him with a beaming smile, happy to spend time with your love. 

“This’ll be so much fun,” Your voice, soft and delicate spoke, earning a smile from him. Your heart fluttered at his smile, his cheeks crinkling slightly as his eyes closed, appearing relaxed. At least to you. But appearances weren’t all what they seemed. 

“And then he smiled, that’s what I’m after,” You clenched a fist, pressing it to your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart. You could feel the eyes of the demon behind you on you, the very demon that came from him. “The smile in his eyes, the sound of his laughter.” 

You could see the scene replaying before you all over again. You could even hear the soft chuckle that had once escaped his lips, his hands softly squeezing your shoulders. You knew she could see it too, but you didn’t want to acknowledge the memories that had begun to rush back to you, memories from long ago. Memories you’d wished you could forget. 

“Happy to listen, happy to play, happily watching him drift away...” 

Lucifer’s grip loosened on your shoulders, his wings flapping as he pulled away, leaving you to your little game. You watched him fly into the bright sky, disappearing in the light of the sun with another. But you didn’t think anything of it, because he loved you. He was playing with you, spending time with you. 

The girl behind you could only watch in silence, her throat squeezing closed as she tried to keep her inner turmoil to herself. She knew exactly where she was, exactly where you had taken her. The wilted bushes, the out-of-control bramble, the spiraling roots through the grass. This was the long-abandoned Garden of Eden. This was where it all began. Where Charlie’s father, Lucifer, had started humanity’s spiral into chaos, starting with you. 

“Happily waiting, all on my own, under the endless sky...” You glanced up to the stars dotting the night sky. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. You never wanted anyone to see this, you never even wanted to see it again yourself. Yet, here you were, sharing your vulnerability with the person you’d come down to Hell to kill. The princess of Hell herself, and Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie. You had let her in, showing her your memories. “Counting the seconds, standing alone, as thousands of years go by...” 

The roots had begun to cling to your still form, your body aching, your wings begging to be spread once more. Your hair, once something you had been proud of, now in shambles, grown out nearly to your feet. Deep bags had sunk into the skin under your eyes, a telling sign of your exhaustion. For how much longer must this game go on, you wondered, but never dared voice it. You were meant to make him happy, right? 

“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?” Your fists clenched, unable to bear looking at your old self any longer, watching as your sickened form disappeared, turning into speckles of gold in the wind. You stepped forward into the place where you had once showed Charlie your older memories, resuming the familiar stance you had been in for over ten thousand years. “Happy to listen, happy to stay, happily watching him drift away...” 

A cool breeze blew through your hair, reminding you of the countless nights you took solace in the feeling, the only thing that reminded you that you were still alive, still conscious. Your eyes met Charlie’s, a faint smile on her face as you spotted the tears welling in her eyes. You turned away with the breeze, taking a step in the opposite direction of Charlie, startling her as she was quick to follow. 

“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you,” 

You walked along the edge of a pond, legs brushing against the soft petals of the flowers surrounding the pond. The breeze pulled along the flowers, a long dead water lily being ripped from the ground. Grasping the weakened petals of the flower in your hand, you turned to Charlie with a soft smile, placing the flower in her blonde hair that felt just the same as his. Just as you pulled your hand away, turning your attention to the water, the flower crumpled in her hair, falling apart. 

“And still, it takes you ages, to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, everyone’s gone on without you...” Your eyes drifted back to the spot you had become a part of for so long. The spot you thought would one day claim you and set you free from the pain that he’d left behind in you. Charlie’s eyes followed, her eyes widening to see more of your memories, more of what her father had caused. 

“Finally, something.” 

The two seraphims, Sera and Emily, stood before you, fear and sorrow written across their faces. Emily ripped roots that had grown to hold you down tightly off, while Sera ran her fingers through your broken hair, tears streaming down her face. 

“Finally, news, about how the story ends.” 

Sera rambled on and on about everything you had missed. About how humanity had progressed. About the angels that had replaced you in society. Everybody thought you were dead, at the hands of the Devil. You didn’t understand any of it, not until she explained just what had happened, why you were even standing here, playing this game. 

“He isn’t an angel anymore, fallen long ago, leaving you for Lilith, and his brand-new daughter...” 

“Isn’t that lovely?” 

Tears streamed down Charlie’s face as she watched your younger self burst into tears, sobbing violently into Sera’s chest as she hugged you tightly, muttering useless apologies over and over. You cried and screamed, telling her to stop lying and to bring you to Lucifer, to end this game already. You begged and pleaded, telling her that it wasn’t like that, that he loved you, he asked you to stay and play with him. He couldn’t abandon you. You were his angel, his love. 

“Isn’t that cool?” 

You ignored the pain that squeezed your heart, watching as your memories faded in those familiar golden glimmers, begging that this would be the final time you’d have to see them. You ignored the hot tears that dripped down your cheeks, your emotions leaking through, escaping the tight hold you’d kept them in for so many years. 

“And isn’t that cruel? And aren’t I a fool to have happily listened, happy to stay, happily watching him drift, drift...” 

You squeezed a fist to your chest, your heart slowing down finally as you sighed deeply. This was the end. This garden, where everything had begun, would finally see the end of the story. Where you would finally let go of the memories that haunted you for ten thousand years, and move on with your life, putting an end to his little game. 

“Drift away...” 

[zepskies]

Love Actually - Part 1

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.  

AN: Here’s my last entry for the TGWRC: Christmas in July event! It’s set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Theme: Christmas movies Prompt: “That’s a poor excuse for a tree.” 

Word Count: 3,100 Tags/Warnings: SB being himself, wee bit of angst, potential fluff overload! 

Part 1: "Humbug"

He was late. 

It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late. 

With a large bowl of popcorn in your lap, you sank further into your favorite corner of the couch, drumming your nails on its arm. 

Your favorite Christmas movie played on the ridiculously large flatscreen Ben had insisted on when you two moved into this apartment. But you couldn’t get into the story like you normally would.

It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA. In fact, he was on an extended mission—hunting down a rogue supe in Idaho, of all places.

Freakin’ Idaho. Goddamn potatoes, you thought irrationally, shoving another handful of popcorn into your mouth.  

While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias. You’d even found a nice little tree that fit in the only free corner of the living room.

Well, you’d had to rearrange some furniture to make that happen, but in the end you’d succeeded. It felt like you were living at the bottom of a snow globe.

You hadn’t heard from Ben at all in over two weeks. The day he left you outside your office in the Surveillance department replayed often in your mind.

Two weeks ago…

“Don’t give me that face, baby doll.” 

Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.  

You knew he had to go. Butcher and the rest of the guys were waiting outside the S.A. office. And you were proud of him for what he was doing, genuinely trying to put in the work on this “hero” thing. But you didn’t have to like the timing. It was only two weeks until Christmas.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Just get this guy quick. I don’t want to hear my aunt’s shady-ass sniping. Every time I show up to a family gathering by myself, she starts plotting my arranged marriage to her fucking pediatrist, her divorce attorney—mind the irony there—or even the guy who packages meat at the grocery store—” 

“All right, Christ. I’ll be back in fucking time,” said Ben. He grabbed your arms to stop your verbal flapping. Then with a grin, his hands moved to the curve of your waist, down to get a healthy grip of your ass. 

“’Sides, I’m the only one flingin’ meat around here,” he said with a deepening smirk. 

You rolled your eyes, but a smile threatened to take over your frown as he pulled you flush against him, trapping your hands against his broad chest. You found purchase on the hard fabric of his uniform. 

“You’re so gross,” you said. But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment. 

And it seemed your boyfriend felt the same way; his arms wrapped around your frame like steel bands. Your fingers swept through his hair as your tongue slipped into his mouth, making his grip on you tighten with a pleased hum. 

“Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”

Ben broke away from you, just enough to frown in irritation over your head. 

“Calm your fucking tits, Churchill. I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready.”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his chest.

Now, it was quite literally hours away from Christmas Day. 

You would be seeing your family tomorrow, regardless. You and Ben were supposed to go to your mother’s house for dinner. But you were starting to think that he might not make it tonight, let alone tomorrow. 

And if you had to deal with your aunt nosing into your personal business again, your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.

Sighing, you continued munching on some popcorn while you focused on one of your favorite parts of Love Actually. Hugh Grant was shaking his ass to “Jump In” by the Pointer Sisters.

The music was infectious, and you found yourself doing a little shimmy yourself on the couch in time with one of your favorite rom-com Brits. 

With the TV volume as loud as it was, not even the door of your apartment unlocking could stop your mini-jam session. 

And the door soon opened, revealing a dusty, soot-covered Benjamin, still in his supe suit and tactical gear. He took a small step back when the gaudy Christmas décor assaulted his eyes, but he blinked through it as he turned his head. 

His lips curved at the familiar sight of you—bundled up in your pajamas and a fuzzy blanket on the couch, bopping to the beat of some shitty ‘80s song he actually recognized. You were alternatively mouthing the words and eating fistfuls of popcorn. 

Shaking his head, Ben stepped into the apartment and shut the door with some force. You finally perked up at the sound, your smile alight with happiness when you realized he was home. That alone made him soften a bit. 

“Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss.  

He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms. 

“Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.

Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.  

“You okay? How did it go?” you asked, wiping off some soot from his cheek. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ben offered you a cocky smile. “We smoked that pyro bitch.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You what?”

“Relax, the supe’s alive,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if it grated him to admit it. He wouldn’t tell you that the supe had two broken arms and probably a crack in his skull. “Being shipped off to prison as we speak.”

You nodded with a smile. “Good. I’m proud of you.” 

His lips pulled at a grin. But then you took his face between your hands with a hard slap (though it didn’t even sting, the point was made in your annoyed frown). 

“You’re late,” you said. Ben raised a brow. 

“Excuse me?” he said. 

“You heard me. You’re fucking late,” you repeated. “Go take a shower. I already started the first movie without you.” 

You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom. 

Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately. 

“Christ, I just got home. All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a more than suggestive smirk. He turned around and pulled you into his firm chest. His hands smoothed down your back and squeezed your hips, with his thumbs dragging under the hem of your pajama top.

While your lips threatened a smile, you had to wonder how he had enough energy for reunion sex, but not enough to watch a simple movie. 

Still, his offer was all-too tempting, making heat prickle along your skin wherever he touched. Nonetheless, you managed to remain stubborn and pushed gently against his chest.

“Down, boy,” you said. “If I let you get your hands on me now, I’ll never get through my list.”

First it was Love Actually, then Christmas Vacation, followed swiftly by Home Alone and its sequel, Lost In New York. 

Ben frowned at you. “So? Watch ‘em tomorrow.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You gestured to all your hard work in the form of the decorated apartment.

“Tomorrow, we have dinner at my mom’s house. So tonight, you’re gonna go shower," you said, pointing at him. "I’m going to make some more hot chocolate, and we’re watching all manner of cheesy, romantic, and downright silly Christmas movies until your Grinch-ass gets some holiday spirit.”

Ben released a tired sigh and dropped his hands away from you.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days," he said. "I’m not staying up all night again for some corny bullshit.”

You frowned in disappointment. 

“Ben, come on. Please?” you tried, but he just waved a dismissive hand and continued his way to the bedroom.

For a moment, you watched him go in disbelief. Was he really going to be like that? 

With a flash of hot annoyance, you huffed and decided that you weren’t going to let him ruin the night for you. 

So you went into the kitchen and whipped up some hot cocoa, breaking out the actual Godiva chocolate bars you bought just for this moment. You poured out one mug initially. But you listened to the old water pipes working, knowing that Ben must’ve been taking a shower. 

You knew he wasn’t just tired. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to tomorrow either, and  was going along with it for your sake. Which, to be fair, could just mean he still wasn’t totally comfortable around your family. (Your sister Luisa still hadn’t totally warmed up to him.)

You also had a feeling that he just wasn’t into Christmas.

The question was why… 

But you poured a mug for him anyway, adding some mini marshmallows into each one. You brought both mugs with you back to the living room and set them down on the coffee table. 

Getting comfortable on the couch again, complete with your blanket, mug, and the popcorn bowl, you pressed “play” and continued watching the movie…even though you felt just a bit lonelier. 

But then, a weight dropped on the other end of the couch. You flinched and looked over at your now clean and pajama-clad boyfriend, who eyed you begrudgingly with his arms crossed over a soft plain shirt. 

You smiled at him warmly. “Hey, baby.”

His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” Biting your lip, you set down the popcorn on the coffee table and handed him the spare cup of hot chocolate. 

“I made some for you,” you said. He gave you a brief nod and took a dutiful sip. But not even rich, chocolatey goodness could curb his sour mood as he stared blandly at the screen. 

You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face. 

When he stifled a yawn, you knew that he hadn’t been lying. He really was tired. Sometimes you forgot that while Ben was all but indestructible, even he had his limits. Chasing that rogue supe across the country must’ve taken it out of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

So you reached over and plucked the mug out of his hand. His brows knit together as he watched you set it down on the coffee table with yours. Then you grabbed his hand. 

“Come ‘ere,” you said, tugging him toward you. 

“What now?” he groused. 

“Just come on. Don’t bitch,” you teased. You guided him to lay across the couch, with his head pillowed in your lap. You grabbed an extra throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him, making sure that it covered him up to his chest. 

“What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek. 

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh through his nose. The movie continued to play, but you were no longer paying much attention. This was more important. 

When he opened his eyes again, they were drawn to the small, four-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, next to the TV. 

“That’s a poor fucking excuse for a tree,” he said. 

You frowned and followed his gaze. 

“I think it’s adorable,” you replied. And it was the only one you thought would fit in this cozy, but very narrow apartment. 

Ben’s arms crossed over his blanket.

“I’ll go tomorrow, find us a real fucking tree,” he said. 

Your frown deepened a little. “But I already decorated this one. All by myself, I might add.”

He eyed you then, a bit softer.

“All right, we’ll get a second one for the dining room,” he grumbled. “Getting the tree up is a man’s job anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at that. But you tried to see if there was anything deeper to read in his words. Not for the first time, you wondered how he’d spent his holidays in the past. No doubt with a lot of fanfare and celebrity parties during his hay day as Soldier Boy. You were more interested in his life before that.   

“I remember, my mom would run the show at Christmas,” Ben said.

You blinked down at him in surprise. Without knowing, he’d opened up on your exact curiosity. 

Or maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

“She’d have all the help in a damn tear around the house. Cooking, decorating, the whole nine yards. It was a perfect scene, like something out of a catalogue,” said Ben. “But getting the tree was always my dad’s job. His only job, really.”

You smiled and continued to listen with rapt attention. Your thumb continued to stroke along his neck. 

“One year, he got this massive one. Must’ve been…I don’t know, twenty feet. I don’t even know how he got it through the door, but he was mighty fucking proud of himself,” Ben said.

His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm. 

“Who decorated it?” you asked. Your voice drew his attention back. 

“Me and him,” Ben admitted, surprising you yet again. “Meanwhile, Mom baked up a storm for the Christmas party they threw every year…”

It was a rare moment where Ben recalled what seemed to be a nice memory of his father. But soon enough, the nostalgia dimmed from his eyes.

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his mouth, as if that could erase his moment of vulnerability. 

Then he turned to face the TV screen. 

“So what’s even happening here? Seems like there’s four goddamn movies playing at once.”

You cracked a smile and continued brushing your fingers through his hair. You also rewinded the movie so he could actually follow the story.

“Yeah, that’s what makes this movie so classic. See, there’s Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. They’re married, kids, the perfect life, right? But he’s actually cheating on her with a younger, sluttier woman.”

“…And this is a fucking Christmas movie?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Then there’s Liam Neeson.”

Ben perked up at that. “The Taken guy?” 

You nodded. “Yep! He’s a widower, but he has a stepson who’s got a sweet little crush. So he’s gonna try and help the kid impress the girl by helping him learn the drums.”

Your boyfriend nodded. 

“Musicians get plenty of pussy, that’s for damn sure,” he said. And with a knowing grin, “Actors get more though.”

You snorted and pointed to Hugh Grant next. “He’s my favorite. He’s playing the Prime Minister, who falls in love with his assistant, Natalie. That’s her right there.”

Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men. 

But he smirked when Natalie kept verbally fumbling in Hugh’s presence, then stared along with the Prime Minister at the woman’s ass when she walked away at the end of the scene.  

“Hmm, I’ll admit. She’s got a juicy peach,” Ben remarked. You laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. It worked an amused smile onto his face. 

He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face. 

He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist. 

So you proceeded to explain the various angles of the movie until he was all caught up. 

You two watched the rest of it together. Like always, you cried when Colin Firth poured his heart out to his housekeeper, Aurélia, half in his mangled Portuguese and half in English. You cried again when Emma’s character finally confronted her cheating bastard husband. 

And you held your breath when Hugh and Natalie kissed as the stage curtain fell down, revealing their relationship to the world. 

By the time the credits rolled, you were an emotional mess. You were happy though. Typically you’d watch this movie with your sister, but it was nice to share the holidays with someone… 

Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa. 

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was asleep. He had turned onto his stomach. His head still rested in your lap, his cheek pillowed by your thigh, and he had a hand curled around your leg. Your big, growling bear of a man had a gooey center that sometimes surprised even you. 

For one mischievous moment, you considered sticking a piece of popcorn up his nose. 

He looked so damn peaceful that you didn’t want to ruin it…yet now you couldn’t get up either. 

Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.

You queued up Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation next in your movie marathon and settled in. You laid a gentle hand on Ben’s back, between his broad shoulders. 

And his story about his parents returned to the forefront of your mind.

Maybe he didn’t hate Christmas. Maybe it was just difficult for him to remember the genuinely good ones. Maybe he missed his parents; both of them, despite how contentious it had been between him and his father. 

You could certainly understand that. But now, you would make sure he would remember this one for the “good” column.

You only startled a little when your cell phone chimed on the coffee table. The screen read 12:00 a.m. It was officially December 25th. 

You then felt Ben’s warm hand squeeze your leg. His eyes were still shut though, his breathing deep and even in sleep. 

With a smile, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

AN: Yay! I hope you liked this fluffy one for SB. 🎄❤️

Did you like Ben's little day trip down memory lane? Let me know in the comments! 😘

**Note: There will be two more parts to this due to popular request!

Keep Reading: PART 2

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[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi! I have already requested before and I don’t know if this is too early to make a new request but I wanted to put this in before it slips out my mind!

but I thought it would be cute if you could make a fluff where reader puts a blue bandana on Romeo and gave him a pair toy katanas and then introduced him to Leo as “Leonardo Jr”

and also btw

jeg elsker din historier! Fellow dansker her!

Leonardo Jr. (Fluff)

Children Series

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

A/N: *Kim Larsen music intensifies as I eat rye bread next to my Dannebrog* VI ER RØDE! VI ER HVIDE! MÅ PIA FOR ALT BØDE OG STØJBERG TYNDSKIDE! Ah, sorry, got a bit carried away there… Anyway, that’s a super cute idea, omfg😭 It’s not a very long one, but I just had to get it done💙 Hope you’ll enjoy, om du så er fra fastlandet eller øboer😂💙

Warnings: None💙

It was a Tuesday afternoon, with the inhabitants of the lair taking a few moments of relaxation, before the four turtle brothers had to go on their patrol in a few hours. Leo, your bellowed husband, had taken a few moments for himself on the couch, after having spent hours with your baby son, Romeo. It was odd to see Leo lay there on the couch with a phone in his hand and no bandana over his face. He rarely left your bedroom without his bandana, but his ten months of fatherhood already seemed to have been doing a few tricks on him - such as leaving his bandana in the bedroom, until he and his brothers had to leave for the night. And it was with that realisation, that Leo once again had left his bandana on his nightstand, that you had an idea.

With ten months old Romeo on your, you made your way to you and Leo’s shared bedroom, where you found his bandana just where you had expected it to be.

“Come on, baby boy. Let’s show daddy how much you look like him”, you smiled at your son, feeling your heart flutter when he smiled back with a sound of joy. Oh, what parenthood was doing to you.

You placed Romeo on the bed, before wrapping the blue bandana over his head, tying it loosely, before having a small giggle fit at how big it looked on your son. Romeo just laughed and giggled back at you, copying your joy, not that he had any idea what was going on.

Picking Romeo back up, you quickly made your way out to the kitchen where you found two dull butter knives, handing them to Romeo, before he could start pulling at the bandana tails. And with Romeo dressed in his fathers blue bandana and a butter knife in each hand, you made your way to the main living area, giggling as you made your way over to Leo.

Leo heard you and Romeo before he saw you, smiling at his phone when he heard you and your son giggle. “What are you two finding so funny?”

Leo looked up from his phone, and was meet by the sight of you holding your son up in front of Leo’s line of view, where Romeo was flapping his arms up and down like a pair of wings, making it look like he was swinging the knifes around, with a big smile of his face, the bandana now covering one of his eyes.

Leo let out a loud laugh, letting his phone drop before reaching out for Romeo, propping him up on his platron. “What’s this?”

“It’s Leonardo Jr.”, you smiled, watching with a smile as Romeo lost interest in the butter knives and started to play with one of Leo’s thumbs. You took a seat on the floor next to the couch, where you could rest your head against Leo’s shoulder, as he still laid there and took up all the space.

“I thought you were against that name”, Leo laughed, wiggling his thumb, causing Romeo to let out a squeal like laughter. Though it was loud, it was a joy to both you and Leo’s ears.

“You’re right, I was”, you said, smiling as the bandana only continued to slide down Romeo’s small face, blinding him momentarily. Again, not that he seemed to notice, too busy playing his own little game with Leo’s thumb. “Probably a sign that we should make a second one just for that name”.

Leo chuckled, shaking his head at you, yet never taking his eyes off your little boy. “Devil woman”.