#anyway i know he's gonna like the blanket when it arrives
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
high-theyre-frendough · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Sometimes I am tempted by these things, and yet, I will resit...
#my grandparents sent me money for my birthday#i bought a new Big Blanket#i picked out a pattern with my boyfriend#cause we share the bed so we might as well share the blanket and what pattern it is#i just know he's going to get excited when he sees how big the blanket is#cause he is 6'6 and gets excited about things that are bigger than him#a few months ago#he met my friend's boyfriend#who was like 6'9 i think#and my boyfriend got so excited that he could actually *look up* at someone because he is never able to do that cause he himself is so tall#anyway i know he's gonna like the blanket when it arrives#i used to have a teal blanket from Big Blanket#but it got ruined at my old apartment#and my ex would not let me take it to the laundromat#and it ended up on the street#when i had to go clean out that apartment and put nearly everything on the street#cause the fucking apartment was infested with cockroaches#my ex wouldn't even help clean the apartment at the time#my current boyfriend helped me clean that place out when no one else but my mother would#and we were not even dating at that point#the gross studio apartment was on the third floor and the stairs were horrible and it was the middle of july and it was so fucking hot#and the whole places was infested with cockroaches and smelled like weed and cat piss#there was rotting food and vomit and shit cause my ex would just throw food around the room and do random annoying shit while high and#make me clean it up and i hated it so much#it was so nasty to clean up#plus the whole time my boyfriend's ex was calling him every 5 minutes or so and accusing him of trying to cheat on her#when the fuck would we have been cheating on her? when we were picking through items with my mother#to find anything that could actually be washed or kept?#or when were were lugging furniture out to the street#or maybe scrubbing out the kitchen
0 notes
foxy-eva · 2 years ago
Text
Nude Beach
Tumblr media
Summary: Reader finally convinces Spencer to go to the beach with her. Turns out it's a nude beach. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut 
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) nudity, awkwardness, teasing, fingering, handjob, semi-public sex (in a car), unprotected penetrative sex
Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge!
Word Count: 3.5k
Masterlist
Tumblr media
After solving a case at this picturesque, vacation-like place, your boss decided that your team should stay for another day for some much needed time off. It was the perfect opportunity for a beach day.
When everyone started making plans for the day at the breakfast table, you realized that nobody wanted to go see the ocean with you. Half of your team decided to go to a spa while the others planned a hike. Neither of those options were particularly intriguing for Spencer but he still didn’t agree to come to the beach with you. 
Spencer explained why he’d rather stay in the hotel, “Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull fe–”
“Reid!” Hotch interrupted him. “We’re eating breakfast.” 
“Come on, pretty boy! I’m sure you’d find some engaging topography if you go with (y/n),” Morgan teased the both of you. 
“That’s inappropriate,” JJ scolded her coworker before snickering, “He’s right though.” 
You felt your cheeks heating up at their words. Spencer had never looked at you for longer than was necessary, so you knew your team was just joking around. However, the thought of him getting excited to see you in a swimsuit let your heart skip a beat. 
Spencer looked between you and the other team members before asking, “You guys won’t stop until I agree, right?” 
With the sweetest tone in your voice you practically begged him, “Please, Spencer! I don’t want to go alone.”
Defeatedly, he sighed, “Fine. Let’s go to the beach.”
A quick online search for the closest beach later you were on your way to the shore with your favorite coworker. Once you arrived it only took you a couple of seconds to make a very interesting discovery. It took Spencer a little longer than that. 
He placed a blanket on the sand and sat down before he looked around. A grin had already formed on your face, curious about his reaction. You took off your shirt and shorts, revealing the bikini you wore underneath. Spencer kept turning his head before locking eyes with you again. 
"I think this is a nude beach," he finally realized.  
When you reached back to undo your bikini top, his eyes widened and he squeaked, "What are you doing?!" 
You just shrugged and said, "When in Rome."
"What?!"
"It means that you should adopt the customs of the place you are visiting," you explained the same way he usually did. 
Spencer shook his head, clearly having trouble to wrap his mind around what was happening. "N.. No, I know what it means! I just meant… don't you want to leave?" 
"Nope," you chirped and let your bikini top drop to the ground. 
Spencer's sight followed the piece of fabric before he made the mistake of looking up again. After getting a glimpse of your breasts, he quickly averted his eyes, already feeling overwhelmed with this situation.
You didn't think he had anything to apologize for but he did it anyway. "Sorry, I didn't mean to– "
"It's okay, you can look," you laughed. "We're at a nude beach, you won't be able to avoid seeing naked people." 
"I really think we should leave," he said, his eyes glued to the floor. 
"You're really gonna leave me here on my own with a bunch of strangers?” You asked and added, “While I'm naked?" 
"No, of course not!” Spencer protested as he found your eyes. “I want you to come with me."
"Not gonna happen. I missed the ocean too much to just leave again. Besides, we haven't gotten a day off in months."
He stared at your face with disbelief in his eyes. You emphasized your words by reaching for the waistband of your bikini bottoms, pulling them down as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 
“Fuck!” Spencer whined as he turned away from you. 
“That bad, huh? I always thought I looked alright naked,” you said while pretending to be offended.
“What? No! It’s not that, you’re very..,” he mumbled as he turned his head to look at you again, just to regret this decision instantly. “Ugh, sorry, I… I’m just uncomfortable.” 
“I would be too if I was the only one wearing clothes at a nude beach,” you snickered. 
You sat down beside him, studying his facial expression while he kept looking into the distance. You reached for your bikini, ready to put it back on when he still seemed uncomfortable around you. 
His sight followed your hand as it grabbed the piece of fabric before he asked, “What about adopting the customs of the place you’re visiting?”
“It’s okay, we can leave.” 
The initial shock of seeing you naked seemed to have worn off for now as Spencer dared to look at you again. “We can leave if you want to but I don’t want you to go just because I’m being a little… dramatic.” 
A rosy shade was covering his cheeks and you couldn’t tell if it was from the sun or from being embarrassed. 
“I really want to stay but I also don’t want you to spend the whole time being uncomfortable,” you confessed. 
Spencer smiled at you. He was sincere when he said, “I’m fine, I just needed a second to adjust. We can stay.” 
You got excited to be able to finally have your beach day and chirped, “So… are you taking your clothes off now or what?” 
With a dramatic sigh, Spencer asked, “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. I swear I’ll behave and only look at your penis for a second.” 
“As long as you don’t laugh,” he joked. 
“No promises.” 
Your words made him laugh and you chimed in with your own giggles. When he finally started undressing, you understood how Spencer must have felt moments before when you took your clothes off. It was impossible for you to keep your eyes on him without having your whole face heat up.
You distracted yourself by putting on sunscreen but kept watching Spencer’s movements from the corners of your eyes. You realized that you had only seen him in button-down shirts and long pants before today and now he was sitting beside you, completely bare. You had to try really hard to not let your thoughts wander to all those impure things you often fantasized about alone at night. 
When you realized that you’d be needing help with putting sunscreen on your back, your eyes fell to his hands. You couldn’t stop your mind from racing to the thought of him touching so much more of your body. With a couple of deep breaths you managed to get your composure back and handed him the bottle. 
He instinctively reached for it before he realized what you were asking. 
You smiled at him when you wanted to know, “Could you please put some on my back?” 
“Wh..What?” 
You shifted your position until you were sitting in front of him so he could reach your back. He was hesitant to do what you were asking for. After a couple of seconds you finally felt his palms tentatively moving over your shoulders and back. He was carefully spreading the sunscreen over your skin and you savored every moment of feeling his fingertips against your body. Unfortunately it was over quicker than you would have liked. 
When he was done, you reached for the bottle again and offered, “I can put it on your back as well.” 
Spencer shook his head, “No, I’m good. I put on sunscreen back in the hotel.” 
You didn’t accept his answer and moved to kneel behind him while you said, "Please don't make me recite statistics about sunburns, that’s usually your job. There’s no way you’re able to reach own back."
Spencer considered his options for a second before telling you, “Fine, you can do it.” 
You took your time putting the lotion on his shoulders and back and noticed how tense he was. He was looking into the distance when you noted, "You seem distracted,”
"I just try to keep my mind occupied."
"You really need to learn how to relax a little," you snickered and began to massage his shoulders. 
To your surprise, he leaned into your touch while a sigh fell from his lips.  
Curious about what was going on in his head, you wondered, "So, what is it that currently occupies your brain?" 
"Baseball."
You felt like you were missing some context. Spencer wasn’t into sports, so you asked, "Why would you think about baseball?" 
Spencer took a deep breath before he mumbled, "I have heard other men claiming that it helps. It's not really working though." 
Suddenly you understood what he was implying. 
“Ah, the disadvantages of the male anatomy,” you snickered. “Okay now I really wanna know, who is it? Who got your attention?”
Spencer seemed confused about your question, almost as if it should have been obvious to you. You tried to follow his line of sight and landed on a gorgeous young woman in front of you. 
"That dark-haired woman over there has a really nice body. Is it her?" You wanted to know. 
Spencer closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, "Please stop."
His reaction made you laugh. “Oh it’s definitely her.” 
He turned his head to find your eyes. “Do you want to go into the water? Cooling off sounds like a good idea.”
Spencer got up from the blanket and reached out his hand for you.
Raising your eyebrows at him, you wondered, “I thought you hated the ocean?” 
With him standing in front of you with all the glory his body had to offer, you finally dared to actually look at him. It was only when you noticed his not-so-subtle erection that you realized that the both of you desperately needed to cool down. 
“That was longer than one second,” Spencer reminded you. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Sorry!” You chirped as you reached for his hand to get up as well. 
Spencer didn’t let go of your hand once you were on your feet, instead he kept pulling as he basically sprinted towards the water with you just two steps behind him. You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his odd behavior. Running was already unusual for him but heading towards the ocean? That wasn’t like Spencer at all. 
He didn’t let go of your hand nor stop once the cool liquid met your feet, quickly moving further into the water until it reached your neck. Your body didn’t get a chance to adjust to the temperature and you could feel how every cell of your body was on edge because of it. However, the erratic beating of your heart might have had a different cause. 
Even when you could barely stand, Spencer didn’t stop. 
“Spencer, you’re taller than me. I can’t go in further,” you laughed.
He turned his head to find your eyes and let go of your hand. It seemed like your words might have gotten him out of whatever spell he was under. That was until he stepped closer to you. With a smirk spreading over his cheeks he closed the distance between your bodies to wrap his arm around your waist. Before you realized what was happening, he had lifted your toes off the sandy ground of the ocean to carry you even further in. 
A surprised cry fell from your lips at the sensation and you instinctively clung your arms around his neck. Spencer didn’t stop until the beach was barely visible and the water almost reached his chin. Only when he stopped moving did you realize how close the two of you were. Your body was pressed into his side, skin on skin, and your face was close enough to his cheek that you were sure he could feel your breath against it. 
“Spencer, what are you doing?” You finally dared to ask. 
Before he could answer, an ocean wave came up from behind you, almost knocking the both of you over. Without thinking about it, you gripped his body even tighter and wrapped your legs around his hip while he buried his fingertips into your waist. The way you clung onto him must have resembled a spider monkey. This whole situation could have been adorably cute if it hadn’t been for the fact that the two of you were completely naked. 
After the wave had subsided and he seemed sure that he had you securely held against the side of his body, he finally mumbled, “I don’t like how they look at you.” 
“What?”
You leaned back slightly to be able to look at him but his sight was fixated in the direction of the beach. 
“The guy on the towel beside us. He looked at you and he wasn’t the only one.” 
A little confused, you reminded him, “So? You were looking at that woman.”
He turned his head to lock eyes with you. “No, I wasn’t.”
You heard his words but they didn’t make any sense at all. Before you could ask what he meant, he explained, “How could I even think of another woman when I’m with you.”
“You were thinking about me?” You muttered in disbelief. 
“And baseball,” he joked. 
It was almost impossible to wrap your mind around what Spencer was saying. Your lips parted several times to voice your thoughts but nothing came out. It was hard to believe that he might reciprocate your feelings, never before had he even implied that he was attracted to you. 
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he looked at you again. “It’s not just because you’re naked. It’s because it’s you… and you’re naked.” 
A few moments passed of the two of you just staring at each other. The gold of his irises was more intense than usual with the sun reflecting in them. It felt like you could drown in the comfort they provided but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his lips finally meeting yours.  
There was no way to tell who leaned in first but you were both eager to deepen the kiss within seconds. When his tongue met yours the heat the sun provided was nothing compared to the warmth spreading through your chest. You shifted your position until you were in front of him, your chest pressed against his and your legs wrapped tightly around his hips. His hardness was pressed firmly against your inner thigh when you felt it twitch against you. 
“God,” Spencer groaned against your lips, “I can’t believe this is happening in the middle of the ocean.” 
You leaned back to look at him as you purred, “Maybe we should get back to the hotel?” 
“Great idea,” he chuckled. “Let’s go.”
With a similar hurriedness as before, the two of you made your way back to the beach, drying off and putting on your clothes at record speed. When you arrived at the car, Spencer hesitated to get into the driver’s seat. 
You walked towards him and offered, “Do you want me to drive?” 
He shook his head and placed his hands on your hips. With more force than you had expected, he pushed you against the door of the car to kiss you feverishly. Your hand found the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to playfully pull on it. 
“Spencer,” you breathed against his lips, “We’ll never make it to the hotel like this.” 
“I need you right now,” he groaned. “I can’t wait.”
You pulled back to look at him. His pupils had almost completely swallowed the gold of his irises, staring at you like a man starved. There was no need to share words for you to know what he was suggesting. The van had tinted windows and it only took a few seconds to fold down the rear seats, making the trunk large enough for the two of you.
Spencer placed the blanket in the trunk to make it more comfortable (and less messy - this was a government vehicle after all) before you climbed inside to lie down beside him. His hands were on you immediately, almost ripping your shirt and shorts off as they greedily roamed over your skin. You were just as eager, your lips only ever leaving his to get rid of his clothes. 
When no more fabric was covering you, he took a moment to unabashedly look at your body and coo, “You’re so beautiful. I will never get enough of seeing you like this.” 
“Maybe we should go to nude beaches more often, then,” you teased him. 
One of his hands snuck down your body until they met your thighs, gently spreading them while he whispered, “I’d rather have you alone.” 
As his fingertips made contact with your slick folds, a moan fell from his lips. He softly kissed you while he started drawing circles around your little bud. 
“You’re so wet,” he purred. “Is that all for me?” 
A desperate “Yes,” fell from your lips between quiet mewls and whimpers. 
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he groaned when you began grinding your hips against his fingers. 
“I might have a hunch, actually,” you teased him as you reached down his body. 
A smirk spread over your face as your hand wrapped around his length. He felt hot and heavy in your palm as you began stroking him, his tip already leaking with desire when you brushed your thumb over it. His entire body trembled at the pleasure your touch provided, almost making him forget about his own mission to focus on you. 
“Fuck!” He groaned and you accelerated the pace of your hand. “Feels so good.” 
When he remembered about his hand between your legs, he continued showing his affection for you. His fingers found no resistance when they carefully began pressing into you, moving against your core until your arousal was dripping into his palm. 
“Please, Spencer,” you panted against his face when the pressure became almost overwhelming. 
“My sweet girl,” he cooed and slowed down the motions of his hand. “What do you need?” 
Everything was somehow too much and not enough at the same time but you were certain that you might dissolve if you didn’t feel his cock inside you anytime soon. 
“You. I need you, please,” you whined. “Fuck me.”
Hearing those words almost made him finish right then and there. He managed to keep his composure by gently moving your hand away from his erection. Once he was on top of you, he reached between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance. With a tilt of your hips and your legs wrapping around his body, you let him glide into you with ease. 
“You feel so good,” he praised you. “So good for me.”
The intense pressure he provided made you feel light-headed. Your walls clenched around him and were answered by him twitching inside you. His lips found yours at the same time he began moving, slowly pushing into you over and over again. There was no way to tell where his body ended and yours began as you melted into one another. 
When he accelerated his pace you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. Despite his weight on top of you it felt like you might begin floating at any moment now. You closed your eyes for a moment only to open them once again when Spencer slowed down. 
“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. 
His eyes were wide when he looked at you and muttered, “Sorry, I.. I’m so close.”
You began grinding your hips against his as you sighed, “Me, too.” 
That seemed to encourage him once more, moving against you harder than before. He watched you intently as you scrunched up your face and your breath staggered, desperate to finally find relief. With one particular hard thrust you fell over the edge, a loud moan escaping your lips as your body began to tremble. 
When Spencer felt your walls pulsing around him, he dared to let go himself, throbbing inside you as he shared his essence with you. When he had nothing left to give, he collapsed into your arms, his face buried into the crook of your neck. Once he had caught his breath again, he dared to separate your bodies to reach for some tissues in your bag to contain the mess of the shared evidence of your desire. 
When Spencer wiped some droplets of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand you realized how hot it had gotten inside the car. Both of you were in desperate need of a shower, so you decided to go back to the hotel right away. When you were on your way back, you reached out your hand to gently brush over Spencer’s fingertips on the steering wheel. 
“Thank you for coming with me today. And thanks for staying despite the surprise.”
He turned his head to smile at you and say, “I’d do just about anything for you. Besides, not all of today’s surprises were that bad.” 
Smirking at him, you teased, “We should skip the beach next time, though.” 
“I can’t argue with that.” 
Tumblr media
If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!
Tumblr media
Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @poo-tay-toot @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo
Join my taglist here
3K notes · View notes
mamaguroheartstoji · 6 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
bunny kisses 🐇 & pancake mornings 🥞 with fushiguro fam 🤍✨
the soft glow of early morning light spilled into the bedroom. mamaguro was still half-asleep, curled under the blanket, when she felt a tiny hand patting her face.
“mama,” came the little voice, insistent but garbled with sleep.
she cracked open one eye to see baby megumi sitting up beside her, his black hair sticking up in every direction like a little bird's nest. he had one of his plushies clutched in his arms—a floppy-eared bunny she’d sewn for him—and his big blue-green eyes blinked at her expectantly.
“good morning, sweetheart,” mamaguro murmured, brushing her fingers through his messy hair.
toji, sprawled out on the other side of the bed, let out a loud snore, earning a giggle from megumi. the little boy turned toward his dad, crawling clumsily over to him.
“papa!” megumi declared, plopping down on toji’s chest.
toji groaned, one eye cracking open to see his son grinning down at him. “gumi, buddy, it’s too early for this,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.
but megumi wasn’t deterred. he leaned down, pressing his tiny hands to toji’s cheeks, smooshing them together as he giggled. “wake up, papa!”
mamaguro laughed softly from her side of the bed. “looks like someone’s decided it’s time to start the day.”
toji let out a dramatic sigh, pulling megumi into his arms and rolling onto his back, the little boy squealing in delight. “you’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” toji said, smirking as he tickled megumi’s sides, earning more giggles.
megumi squirmed, holding his bunny tight as he buried his face in toji’s chest. “papa, nooo!”
“papa, yes,” toji teased, tickling him one last time before letting him go.
mamaguro propped herself up on one elbow, watching the two of them with a soft smile. “you two are a handful, you know that?”
toji glanced over at her, grinning. “you love it.”
“maybe,” she admitted, reaching out to scoop megumi into her arms. she kissed his chubby cheek, making him giggle again.
“mama,” megumi said softly, leaning his head against her shoulder, his little hand clutching her shirt.
toji sat up, ruffling megumi’s hair. “all right, let’s get breakfast going. pancakes, little guy?”
megumi’s eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands. “’cakes!”
“you spoil him,” mamaguro said with a mock sigh, standing up with megumi in her arms.
toji smirked, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they headed to the kitchen. “yeah, but he’s worth it.”
the kitchen was a cozy mess of warm light and the faint smell of coffee. mamaguro settled into a chair with baby megumi on her lap, his bunny still firmly in his grasp. he babbled happily, occasionally pointing at random things on the table.
toji stood at the stove, wearing an apron mamaguro had insisted he buy months ago. it was black with the words "grill master" printed on it—a little over the top for pancakes, but he wore it anyway.
“watch and learn, gumi,” toji said, flipping a pancake with a little too much flair.
megumi clapped his tiny hands together, clearly impressed by his dad’s “technique.” mamaguro hid a smile behind her hand.
“you know,” she teased, “the goal is to keep the pancake in the pan, not send it flying across the room.”
toji glanced back, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. “have some faith, woman. i’ve got this.”
just as he said it, the next pancake flipped… and landed half out of the pan. toji froze, his hand hovering in midair as mamaguro burst into laughter.
“got this, huh?” she said between giggles.
toji sighed dramatically, scraping the half-flipped pancake back into the pan. “you’re setting me up for failure here. the kid’s watching; he’s gonna think i’m an amateur.”
megumi, oblivious to his dad’s plight, was more interested in chewing on his bunny’s ear.
“i think he’s more concerned about breakfast arriving soon,” mamaguro said, gently bouncing megumi on her knee.
“all right, all right,” toji grumbled, focusing on the pan again. after a few more successful flips, he finally had a respectable stack of pancakes. he plated them with a flourish, adding a dollop of butter and a drizzle of syrup.
“voilà,” he said, setting the plate down in front of mamaguro and megumi. “breakfast, courtesy of chef toji.”
megumi reached for the plate immediately, babbling excitedly. mamaguro grabbed his little hands just in time. “hold on, sweetheart. it’s hot.”
toji sat down across from them, watching as mamaguro carefully cut up a pancake into tiny pieces for megumi.
“you spoil him,” toji said with a smirk, mimicking her earlier words.
“he’s worth it,” mamaguro replied, a playful glint in her eyes as she handed megumi a tiny fork.
megumi managed to stab a piece of pancake and shove it into his mouth, syrup smearing across his cheek. he looked up at toji with wide, delighted eyes.
“good?” toji asked, leaning forward.
“good!” megumi replied around a mouthful of pancake.
toji grinned, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “that’s my boy.”
mamaguro watched them with a warm smile, her heart full as her two favorite people shared a quiet, simple moment together.
after breakfast, the kitchen was a sticky war zone of syrup smears and a plate with half-eaten pancake bits strewn about. megumi, with syrup on his cheeks, hands, and somehow even his hair, sat in mamaguro’s lap, blissfully unaware of the chaos he’d caused.
“you know,” mamaguro started, dabbing at megumi’s face with a damp cloth, “if you’re going to call yourself a chef, maybe you could also learn to clean like one.”
toji leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. “hey, my job was pancakes. cleaning’s extra.”
she gave him a mock glare, her lips twitching upward in a smile. “extra, huh? should we count how many pancakes landed halfway out of the pan?”
toji grinned, standing and stretching. “fine, fine. i’ll handle it.” he grabbed a towel and started wiping down the counters, glancing over at them as he worked.
“you know,” he said, smirking, “gumi’s already showing promise. he liked my cooking more than yours.”
“oh, really?” mamaguro said, raising an eyebrow.
toji pointed toward megumi, who was chewing on his bunny’s ear. “look at that face. that’s the face of a satisfied customer.”
megumi chose that moment to let out a small hiccup, which was immediately followed by a bubbly giggle.
“case closed,” toji declared, tossing the towel onto the counter.
“you’re ridiculous,” mamaguro said with a laugh, standing up with megumi in her arms. she kissed the top of megumi’s head, sticky hair and all, then turned to toji. “your satisfied customer needs a bath.”
“hey, it’s only fair if i made breakfast, you take bath duty,” toji teased, leaning against the counter.
mamaguro rolled her eyes. “it’s bath duty, not a death sentence.”
but toji was already moving toward her, taking megumi from her arms. “nah, i’ll handle it. gumi and i have a system, right, kid?”
megumi stared up at him, blinking slowly before reaching for toji’s nose.
“see?” toji said with a grin. “teamwork.”
the bathroom was soon filled with the sound of splashing water and megumi’s giggles. mamaguro lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she watched them.
toji knelt by the tub, rolling up his sleeves as he carefully poured water over megumi’s head. the little boy squealed, splashing water everywhere, including directly onto toji’s face.
“gumi,” toji said, wiping his face with a hand, “you trying to drown me here?”
megumi just laughed, kicking his legs in the water.
“he’s a menace,” mamaguro said, her voice filled with affection.
toji glanced back at her, water dripping from his chin. “he gets it from you.”
“sure he does,” she said, crossing her arms.
toji turned back to megumi, who was now busy chewing on the edge of a rubber duck. “all right, buddy, let’s finish this up before your mama decides to frame me for war crimes.”
megumi just babbled in response, completely at ease in his dad’s hands.
after the bath, megumi was wrapped in a fluffy towel, his hair sticking up in soft tufts. mamaguro took him from toji and began drying him off, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks as he squirmed in her arms.
“you’re all clean now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” she cooed.
toji watched them, leaning against the doorway with a towel slung over his shoulder. “you know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “we’ve got a pretty good thing here.”
mamaguro looked up, meeting his eyes. there was a softness there, a rare vulnerability that made her chest ache.
“yeah,” she said, smiling at him. “we do.”
toji stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “thanks for putting up with me,” he murmured.
“always,” she said softly, resting her head against his shoulder as megumi yawned in her arms.
it was these small, quiet moments that she held onto—messy, chaotic, and utterly perfect in their own way.
Tumblr media
171 notes · View notes
zara-renata · 10 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Good Boy | masterlist | ao3
@wearysparrows and i were talking this morning about dogs and work was really slow, so i just... wrote dog!sylus all day today. @leaderincrows is bursting with ideas for dog!sylus, but I only managed to fit some of them in this time (i'm so sorry, i hope you like anyway!). Maybe there needs to be more dog!sylus, i don't know. So voilà, I present you my very stupid take on the trope -> After a stray dog gets injured helping you in a fight against Wanderers, you take it home with you. Then one day, you wake up and find a man in your bed instead of your beloved dog. sylus x gn reader, sylus x mc. sylus acts like a real dog for 2/3ds of the fic. nsfw, there's penetrative sex, not with dog!sylus but with human!sylus (sylus penetrating), oral for both you and sylus, as a treat. Minor doggy injury, but he's fine. fluff, banter, teasing.
The snow is falling. Fat flakes, thick. The world is still, all sounds muffled under the blanket of snow covering the ground. 
The blood is bright on the snow, against the white. 
Your chest heaves as you stare down at the huge, beautiful dog. Wolf? You’re not sure. You’ve never been able to have a pet, never spent much time with animals. Wolf hybrids are outlawed within Linkon City limits, so you think it’s most likely that the injured animal before you is some kind of large shepherd dog. An albino, going by its red eyes, its long, silky looking thick coat of white fur, blending in with the snow.
Except for the blood.
Your Hunter’s watch alerted you to metaflux fluctuations while you were out with friends, in a park near the restaurant where you were having dinner. They stared, wide-eyed, as you stood up right as the main course arrived. 
“Duty calls,” you said.
Tara looked worried. “Why don’t you call for backup?”
You shook your head. “It’s not that big of a fluctuation. Xav’s sleeping, I’m not gonna wake him up for this.”
She glanced around at the group, gaze lingering on the guy whom she was trying to set you up with. “Okay…” she said, grimacing.
You knew you were going to get an earful for interrupting the blind date that Tara had arranged but you didn’t know you were attending when you arrived, in order to fight Wanderers. It was your night off too, after all. 
The guy seemed nice. Handsome. You just… felt nothing when you looked at him, when you listened to his small talk. You’d rather be out in the snow, risking your life.
Yeah, Tara might be right. There might be something wrong with you.
You were just bored, otherwise.
Without the adrenaline. The rush. The sense of accomplishment.
Most men you met just didn’t get it.
None of the men you met ever made your heart race, the way doing your job made it race.
Now, here you are. In the hushed, falling snow, staring down at the dog that just saved your ass from a surprise second Wanderer, while you were busy putting down the first.
The dog received a nasty swipe to its belly as a reward for its efforts.
It’s lying in the snow, curled in on itself, licking, licking.
You tuck your Deepspace Hunter standard issue firearms into your holsters, barrels still smoking in the cold. Crouch down into the snow, your boots crunching.
“Hey, buddy,” you say softly. One of the dog’s pretty, huge, pointy ears flicks in your direction, but it remains focused on tending its wound, its long tongue pink, its breath puffing in the frigid air.
You inch closer, waiting for a sign of defensive aggression, but the dog seems content to let you approach.
Finally, you’re crouched next to it. You lift your hand, and it lifts its head. It stares at you with its strange, bright red eyes. Bright, like the blood on the snow.
It sniffs your hand, nostrils flaring, and then lowers its head. As if deigning to allow you to pet it.
You stroke your fingers along its long snout, along its cheek. It huffs, closes its eyes.
“Can I see your tummy?” you ask, running your hand from its snout, down its shoulder, to rest on its side.
It lets you. Watches your hand, and then licks it.
You lean further, letting your hand rest on its leg. “I’m going to lift your leg now, take a look at your belly,” you inform it. It doesn’t move, so you take a chance, and do as you promised. 
The dog lets you.
Lifting the dog’s leg, you see it’s a boy, unneutered. You’re surprised. Most pets, unless they’re registered for breeding or are show animals, are required to be neutered or spayed in Linkon City. You wonder if he’s a stray. 
But your attention is caught by the long, shallow gash along his lower belly, where his thick, luxurious fur is the most thin. It’s not deep, but it’s bleeding quite a bit.
“You need to see a vet, buddy,” you tell the dog.
He growls, low in his throat. You still your hand, thinking maybe he changed his mind about you touching him. You lift your hand, but then he nudges it, butting it with his nose, as if demanding that you continue caressing him.
You laugh. “Okay. Okay.” You resume petting him. 
He’s not wearing a collar. There’s no way for you to know if he’s a stray, or has an owner to call, who can help come and collect him, to care for him. Based on how beautiful and healthy he looks, you doubt he’s a stray. But you can’t just leave him here.
You stroke his fur, while slowly reaching into your coat pocket for your phone.
You make a call. The answer is swift. A bit exasperated. You can imagine the man on the other end pinching his nose, nudging his glasses aside as he does so, long-suffering from yet another strange request from you.
“You do realize that I’m a cardiac surgeon, and not a veterinarian.”
You humor him. “Yes, yes. I will make it up to you, I promise.”
There is silence on the line. Then his soft, soothing voice. “There is a new bakery that recently opened. They specialize in macha desserts.”
He knows you hate macha. This is his way of punishing you.
You smile. “I’ll treat you. Come quickly.”
“I will.”
The dog’s eyes never leave yours, the whole time you’re on the phone.
Zayne is as good as his word.
He arrives quickly, striding through the thick snowfall, at home in the frigid cold, seemingly unbothered with his handsome wool coat only partially buttoned, his scarf hanging loosely around his neck.
The dog watches him, with his strange, strange eyes, but doesn’t act defensive. As if he knows that this man is here to help.
Zayne couches down next to you. Sighs.
“What happened?”
“Wanderer claws. No poison, or venom. Just the nasty gash there.” You gesture at the bleeding wound, the white fur crimson now, matted.
“Has he shown any signs of aggression?” 
You shake your head.
“All right, but that’s no guarantee he won’t react when I start working. I’ll sedate him.”
The dog growls, narrows his eyes. You have the funny feeling again that he can understand everything that’s happening to him, what you’re saying.
“I’ll hold his snout,” you blurt. 
Zayne frowns, slightly. “He could bite you. He could have an infectious disease. Absolutely not.”
You turn to the dog. “Focus on me, okay buddy? Dr. Zayne is gonna fix you right up. It might hurt, but you can handle it, right? You’re such a good boy.” You speak low, soft, soothingly. The dog’s ears swivel, flick. He whines when you say Good boy. He inches forward, painfully, in the snow to get closer to you. You rest your hands on either side of his big jaws, stare into his eyes. “Do it,” you tell Zayne. “Please.
All you hear is his frosty silence, before a resigned sigh.
The dog whimpers, but doesn’t snap, or otherwise react, as Zayne cleans his wound, stitches him up. As he wraps the clean bandages around the wound, covering the bloody, matted fur. The dog just looks into your eyes, panting, shows no sign of reacting poorly to the pain.
When it’s over, the dog closes his eyes. You run your hands from his muzzle down his neck, back through his thick fur.
“Good boy,” you say, again, softly. His long, fuzzy tail thumps weakly in the snow in response.
“He’ll need antibiotics. You’ll need to arrange for an actual vet for that.”
You nod. “Thanks.” Then pause. Grimace. “I need one more favor.”
Zayne stares at you, lovely hazel eyes flashing behind his glasses. “Do I even want to know?”
“I came here on my motorcycle, and I want to take him home. Make sure he recovers okay. Find his owner, hopefully.”
Zayne immediately understands what you’re asking and frowns again, more deeply. “No.”
“Pretty, pretty please?” You’re not above begging, wheedling like when you were children.
“The upholstery in my car cannot handle all that—” he waves a scarred hand at the lustrous, incredibly thick fur of the dog, and his long, sharp looking nails.
“I’ll pay for any detailing or damage your car might need, along with the macha bakery!” you offer, desperate. You don’t think any cab in the city will accept your not-wolf as a passenger.
Zayne stares down at the dog. His shoulders sag a bit.
“On one condition.”
You perk up. “Anything.”
“Take my scarf. You’re not even wearing a proper winter coat,” he scolds, sounding infinitely exhausted with your inability to properly take care of yourself. He turns to you, lifting the scarf from his neck and wrapping it gently around yours. It’s warm around your neck, and smells good. “How you think you’ll care for a pet, as well as yourself, is beyond me,” he grumbles. He looks down at the dog. “Come.”
The dog just stares at him. Leans further back in the snow.
“Come, now,” Zayne tries again. Cold, imperious.
“I don’t know if he can walk,” you begin, but Zayne shakes his head.
“His side is injured, not his legs. He can walk.” 
You glance uncertainly at the dog, whose ears are now flattened back against his head. He’s panting heavily, where before he wasn’t. He looks miserable.
You steel your spine. “Okay, I’ll carry him to your car.”
Zayne pinches his nose again, knocking his glasses a little. “No, I’ll carry him.”
He kneels, lifts the dog with a grunt.
You swear the dog looks smug as he rests his head on Zayne’s shoulder, ears pricked up and swiveling again. He watches you as you trail behind them both in the snow to Zayne’s fancy car.
You’re going to have to add Zayne’s drycleaning to the bill of what you owe him.
You thank Zayne, return to the restaurant.
You offer your excuses to your disappointed-looking blind date. You don’t have the heart to refuse to give him your number.
Finally, you make your escape. Break the speed limit to get home before Zayne and your… not wolf.
Zayne carries the dog into your place, sets him down on your living room rug.
He looks down at his fur-covered coat when he’s done, expression unimpressed.
“Bill me,” you say, trying to sound cheerful, as if you’re not already deducting the accumulated costs from your bank account and wincing internally. 
Expensive fucking dog, and you’ve only had him for an hour.
“Do you want to stay? Have something to drink?” you ask, the least you can offer after your doctor’s excessive generosity tonight, even if you now owe him.
He shakes his head. “I have to return to the hospital. But thank you.” He stares down at the dog, who is now sitting on his haunches just fine, breathing normally. His ears are straight up, swiveling, swiveling. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, absently.
You tilt your head. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He keeps staring at the dog. “There’s something…” his voice trails off. He shakes his head, seems to shake off his thoughts. “Nevermind. Call me, if you need anything.”
“Thank you, again. Let me know when you’re free soon, I’ll clear my schedule for macha,” you say, cheerfully, despite the fact that you hate it terribly. He nods, makes his way to your front door.
“Oh, do you want your scarf?” you ask, suddenly remembering that he insisted you wear it. You begin unwrapping it from your neck. 
He pauses at the door. “No. Keep it, for now. You can return it when we meet again,” he says, strangely. As if he’s actually saying something else. Like it’s insurance to see you again, when he’s your doctor. Of course you'll see him again.
You thank him quietly, and then he’s gone. You hang the scarf carefully on one of the pegs in the wall of your hallway.
You return to the living room and stare at your new friend, who still sits on his haunches, watching you attentively.
“Hey, Buddy. I don’t have anything for a dog. No food, no leash. I’m going to have to go to the supermarket and pick up some stuff for you.”
The dog just listens, watches. You frown. “Okay. I’m going to go now. Don’t eat my shoes.”
You turn, walk to the door. You put your boots back on, and as you do so, you feel a cold nose nudging the back of your bent neck. You shiver.
“Hey,” you say, turning. The dog has followed you to your hallway. You hate thinking of him as ‘the dog.’ 
“Do you have a name?” you wonder out loud.
The dog whines, a little, tilting his head. “I bet you have some regal name. You seem like a very expensive dog, with a rich owner.”
The dog just huffs.
“Maximus,” you say. Trying it out. He lowers his head, bumps your shoulder with his snout. You laugh. “Okay, not Maximus. Uum.” You think. “Charles?”
The dog growls. 
“Okay, okay.” You try again.“Sherman.” 
The dog actually takes a step back, growls more deeply. You laugh even louder. “I should call you Sherman as punishment for being so picky.” He looks unimpressed, bored. But his ears are pressed back against his head. His tail is thumping the floor in agitation.
You can’t bear to see him so put out, so you decide against calling him Sherman even as a joke.
You stare at him thoughtfully. He’s so beautiful, with his soft, long fur. It almost has a pearl sheen, in the subtle lighting of your hallway.
Finally, a name comes to you. You don’t know why, but you say, “Sylus.” A name that you’ve never known anyone to have before. Not anyone you’ve ever met, anywhere, anyway.
His ears flick forward. He approaches you again. Rests his head on your shoulder.
“Oh, we like Sylus?” you tease him, and he lets his tongue loll out, leaves a wet swipe on your ear. You laugh, pushing his head away. “Sylus it is.”
He watches as you finish tying your boots.
As you shrug back into your coat. As you walk out the door. 
He’s there when you return. Sitting patiently, in the same position. As if he was waiting for you to come home the entire time. His tail wags eagerly.
You dump all the shit you bought for him on the hallway floor.
“You’re already the most expensive thing I’ve acquired in a long, long time,” you grouse at him.
You unlace, kick off your boots. Hang up your coat.
You don’t notice that Zayne’s scarf is no longer hanging on the peg in the hall.
You take the huge bag of dog food to the kitchen. He follows you, head low, watching every move you make. You hum, taking a bowl from your cupboard, scoop out some of his food, set it and another bowl filled with water next to your kitchen island.
When you turn, you find him staring at you, ears swiveled toward you.
You stop humming.
He takes a step forward, nudges your thigh. He’s so big, he comes up to your waist. “What do you need, baby?” You run your hands through his fur. You don’t know where the term of endearment came from. It’s just, despite his size, the fact that he looks like an alpha predator, something about him screams ‘big baby’ to you. In the same way you knew that he wouldn’t bite you as Zayne tended to his wound.
You just know. 
Like you know his name should be Sylus.
This dog is making you insane.
He whines softly. Lets out a little ‘awooo.’
You stare at him. He does it again. A sad little, awooo. Then he nudges your hip with his nose.
You suddenly understand that he wants you to keep humming.
You start humming again, and he looks incredibly satisfied. He sits back on his butt, tail thumping on your floor.
From that day on, you hum, every time you’re home. You decide that the next time you have to leave him, you’ll leave music on for him to listen to you while you’re gone.
You have no idea what you’re going to do with such a big dog if you can’t figure out who owns him, but you’re going to keep him if no one else will. Already, the thought of parting from him hurts your heart in a way that shocks you.
Even as he turns his nose up at the dry food you bought him.
Even as he only eats meat leftovers from takeout from the night before.
Even as he lets you bathe him, docilely sitting in your small shower, but then once he’s out of the cabin, he stares you directly in the eyes even as you say No!!!! and he shakes his body, his soaking wet fur, so hard that the entire room and everything in it, including you, is soaked.
You stand, shellshocked, dripping onto your little, soaked bathroom rug.
“Sylus,” you say. Glaring at him. He sits back on his butt. He doesn’t avoid your gaze, like other dogs. He stares right back at you.
You strip out of your clothes, leave them in a sad little pile on the floor. Naked, you kneel down, take a towel and gently rub him down. He licks your arm, your hand. As if to say he’s sorry. You don’t believe it for a second.
When he’s towel dry, you take out your blow dryer.
His eyes close halfway in hypnotized pleasure as you slowly, diligently brush him with the new doggy brush you bought and dry him with the dryer set to low.
When you’re done, he’s so fluffy, his coat so shiny. You want to bury your face in him. You check his stitches. They look fine, even after the shower.
But you’re still naked, and soaked. You shoo him from the bathroom, step into the shower. Wait for the water to warm up again.
You wash your hair, let the water beat down on your sore shoulders. With your job, something is always sore.
However, after a few minutes, you notice that the water isn’t draining. You look down and see a massive amount of white fur blocking the drain.
You hang your head, exhausted at the prospect of cleaning the drain before you can be done for the evening. 
This fucking dog.
Finally, the shower is clean. You’re clean.
You step out of the bathroom, walk naked to your bedroom.
Sylus is lying on your bed. As if he owns the place. His big head rests on his big paws, and he watches you, his ears swiveling, flicking, as you stop and put your hands on your hips.
“Off.” You are not letting this monstrous, furry thing sleep on your bed. You’re already nuts about him, but this is a step too far. “I got you a dog bed. You can sleep on your doggy bed.”
You go to your closet, and you feel his glowing ruby eyes follow every movement you make. As you slip on underwear. Soft pyjama pants. A tank top.
You turn. He hasn’t moved. “Be a good boy, and get off the bed.”
He pretends not to hear you. Just looks away, as if fascinated by the view outside your bedroom window. He huffs, as if bored, tail swishing slowly.
“I spent way too much money on a glorified pillow of a dog bed for you to sleep on, Sylus. You can sleep on your doggy bed,” you insist, trying to infuse your voice with authority.
One ear twitches toward you, but otherwise he doesn’t move.
“I’m not afraid to shove you off, even if you are injured,” you threaten, lying. There’s no way you could do that to him.
He can obviously smell your lie. He just looks back at you. Thumps his tail.
You’re tired. You’ve got a long day again tomorrow, starting with a five in the morning run. You give up.
“Fine. Just for tonight,” you concede, crawling onto the bed. “But you stay on the end of the bed,” you grumble, snuggling under the covers. You switch off the light, and hear a satisfied sigh from your new companion.
You come awake slowly, not from your alarm, but from the warmth. You’re sweating. It’s a bit hard to breathe.
You blink open your eyes, slowly, to find a giant, soft, space heater of a dog curled up against your stomach and chest where you’re lying on your side, his big head resting on the pillow next to yours. He’s snoring softly. Every now and then, his legs move restlessly, as if he’s dreaming about running.
You roll over, peer at your clock on your nightstand. Ten minutes before you need to be up for your run. You groan. Every minute of sleep is precious, and your new dog deprived you of ten whole minutes. 
Well. You’re awake now. You sit up, and the culprit who woke you up early startles, jumps to his feet. You stare at him. He’s a little taller than eye-level with you, as you sit on the edge of the bed.
“Good morning, naughty boy,” you say, dryly. His ears flatten against the back of his head. He takes a step forward, nuzzles into your neck with his wet nose, sniffing. You laugh, pet him. He seems mollified after being jerked awake. As if he has any room to be upset about being woken up early.
You stand, stretch. He jumps off the bed, follows you to the closet. You strip out of your pyjamas, pull on your running things. He tries to follow you in the bathroom when you go to pee, but you shoo him away, shut the door in his face.
When you emerge, he follows you to the kitchen. You shovel down a piece of toast, a sip of water. You dump the last of the leftover meat in his bowl, which he greedily eats. You make a note to get him wet food the next time you go to the store, since apparently your new (probably temporary) dog is a fancy boy.
“I”m going for a run. You stay here and be a good boy, okay?”
You walk to the hallway, and he follows. “No, you’re injured. I’ll take you out to pee and poopoo when I’m done with my run.”
His ears flatten on his head again. He squeezes past you, blocking the door with his bulk.
“Sylus,” you sigh. “You’re hurt. You can’t come on a run with me yet.”
He huffs. Shakes himself, like he shook himself last night in your bathroom. Then, like a king deigning to kneel for a peasant, he lies down and bares his belly to you.
You gasp. The stitches. The angry wound from yesterday. 
Gone. As if they were never there. Just the soft, unmarred skin of his tummy where his fur thins.
You check your Hunter’s watch. No metaflux. You don’t sense any, either. He’s not a Wanderer. He’s just a miracle. You remember Zayne’s strange expression, staring at him yesterday.
You wonder if he’s some escaped medical experiment. 
You resolve to take him to the vet, see if he’s chipped, with his owners on record. If he’s not, you’ll put up posters where you found him.
You don’t want to.
You want to keep him.
But you should do the right thing, and at least make a reasonable effort to find his true owner before allowing yourself to hope that you can keep him. This giant dog, whom you do not have time or space for, to keep properly.
But your heart hurts, when you think about taking him to a shelter. Saying goodbye to him.
“Okay. Okay,” you say. He rolls over, sits up. “I still have to go for my run. I’ll be back to take you out, after.”
He huffs, moves forward, nudges your hip with his nose. He then lopes to the bag of things you got him the day before, and he brings you his collar and leash, clutched in his big jaws, still with the tags on.
You laugh.
“Okay. Okay, you win. Again.” You roll your eyes, surrendering. You kneel, and he lowers his big head, pretty, glowing eyes never leaving yours, as you thread the black and scarlet, gem-studded leather collar around his neck with the empty tag shaped like a heart, clasp it tight. You clip the leash on the collar.
He does a little dance at the door, as if excited, tail wagging. 
He runs with you through the gray, quiet, early morning. The snow hushes your footsteps. He doesn’t falter once, the entire run. 
At the end of your run, as you’re walking to cool down, about to head back to your place, he suddenly dashes forward, jerks the leash out of your hand.
“Sylus!” you cry, trying to run after him. He disappears into an area full of shrubbery and dense vegetation, heavy with snow along the bare branches, the pine needles. You have no idea what got into him. Just as you’re about to get on your knees and try to crawl in after him, he re-emerges. He brings you his leash in his teeth.
“What the fuck, Sylus?” You stare at him.
He huffs. Runs a circle around you, kicking up snow. As if to say, Take the leash, take the leash.
You think back over the run. About how he didn’t stop, once. To sniff. Or to pee.
“Did you need to peepee? Or poopoo?” He just growls, bobs his head with his leash in his mouth. “Oooh, baby’s shy!” You laugh. “You better remember this, when you try to follow me into the bathroom again.” You take his leash from between his sharp, sharp teeth.
He leads the way back to your apartment building. You admire his big paw prints in the snow.
Before you leave him to go to work, you snap a photo of him, staring at you solemnly. As if he’s posing. You leave him with music playing and the curtains open, the door to your indoor balcony open for a view.
At work, you make a vet’s appointment. You print off a bunch of “Found” posters for Sylus for if he’s not chipped, with his cute picture front and center. You do paperwork, patrol the city, laugh and joke with Xavier and Tara.
She gives you the earful you expected, about ditching your blind date. She’s only slightly mollified when you show her the picture of Sylus, who looks like such a big handsome boy in the photo.
You’d rather hang out with your dog, than see that guy again.
But you don’t say that out loud.
This dog is making you insane.
You stop by the store on your way home, pick up an absurd amount of meat to cook, as a backup, you tell yourself. For if Sylus refuses to eat the wet food you’re also buying. Not because you have the bizarre urge to feed him food meant for a king. Meant for a king, and not your stray dog who is the least obedient creature you’ve ever encountered.
You let yourself into your apartment, and are a bit surprised, maybe a little disappointed that your new friend isn’t there to greet you already. You know it’s absurd, to wish he had missed you as much as you found yourself missing him throughout your day.
You kick your boots off, carry your groceries to the kitchen island. You glance around. No Sylus.
You peek on the balcony. No Sylus.
So that leaves the bedroom.
You pad quietly through the living room, and then pause in the doorway to your bedroom, shocked at the chaos before you.
Your dirty laundry basket, knocked over.
All of your laundry spread in a little nest, surrounding your dog.
Your big, beautiful, regal dog, who is lying on his belly the floor in the midst of your dirty clothes, like a sphinx, diligently licking a pair of your underwear meant for the wash that he has trapped between his paws. He’s so absorbed in his current activity that he doesn’t seem to notice you at all.
“Sylus!” you yell. Bellow. Air raid siren level of volume.
The noise seems to rip him out of his meditative licking. He blinks, looks up, pauses. Then he stares you right in the eye and takes another lick.
“No! Naughty! Naughty boy!” You stride forward, intending to yank your underwear from his mouth, but he just… chomps down on the slip of fabric, pulling it into his mouth with his tongue and teeth. Then he tries to swallow. “SYLUS!” 
You drop to your knees next to him and grab his snout. You place one hand on his snout and the other under his lower jaw, and then you try to pry his jaws apart, as he continues to clamp down. “Drop! It!” you order, through clenched teeth. He ignores you, resisting your efforts, but not growling, not snapping at you. Simply...ignoring your insistence.  “Drop it!!!”
He swallows, instead. 
You stare at him, huffing from the effort, as you realize that he has just successfully eaten a pair of your underwear.
You’re really, really glad you made that vet appointment already.
It’s only after he has retreated to your bed, completely unashamed, unapologetic, and you’ve started putting your laundry back in the basket, that you notice Zayne’s scarf amidst the pile of clothes. It’s now completely covered in fluffy, white fur, and it stinks like dog.
You hang your head in defeat.
This dog is making you insane.
You take him to the vet. He’s not chipped. 
“If you’re going to keep him, you’ll have to neuter him.”
Sylus’s ears twitch, and he growls menacingly, deep in his throat. The vet stares at him, a strange look on his face. You say something vague, about making an appointment once you’ve exhausted your options in finding his true owner.
The vet has no idea what breed he is. Suspects he might indeed be part wolf. But without a genetic test, he can’t say for sure. He looks at your dog in contemplation. “A fine animal. It would be a shame if he’s a hybrid, and you couldn't keep him.” His eyes flick to yours. “You’re a Hunter, right?”
You nod, wondering why he’s asking.
“One of your lot saved my daughter from a Wanderer attack, a few years ago. Handsome guy. Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
You stare at him. “Was his name Xavier, by any chance?” you tentatively ask.
The vet nods. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
You look down at Sylus, who is leaning against your leg, eyes closed. “He’s my partner,” you say quietly.
“Hmm,” the vet says. He puts his tablet down. Seems to come to a decision. “Well, it looks like we’ve already got the genetic test results back about your dog. He’s just a mutt. Mainly shepherd, husky.”
You jerk your head up, stare wide eyed at him.
“Agreed?” he asks.
You could cry. 
“Are you sure?” you ask, not believing that you’re one step closer to keeping your incredibly disobedient, lovely good boy.
The vet shrugs. “Test results are test results. Just take him to obedience training. Make sure he gets plenty of exercise. This type of dog needs a firm hand, and an outlet for excess energy. They can be really destructive if they get bored. Like a bomb going off in your house.”
You snort. Think about your laundry. Your poor underwear, which the vet says was small enough not to present a problem for your giant dog. He’ll just shit it out, later.
“Thank you,” you say, quietly, sincerely. You’re breaking so many regulations—ethics rules, accepting gifts for your work as a Hunter, violating city ordinances, because your dog is clearly not just a dog. But you’re realizing you’d do a lot of shady shit, if it means keeping your good boy.
“No, thank you,” he responds, shooing you and your good boy out the door.
You take Sylus home. He curls up on the couch with you, rests his head in your lap, as you watch tv. 
And so it goes.
Morning runs.
Taking him for walks.
To keep him from going after your underwear again, you take big doggy toys that frankly look like butt plugs and fill them with peanut butter. You freeze them. It keeps Sylus busy all day, licking the peanut butter out of the toy.
You try to take him to a dog park, to interact with other dogs. He ignores them, looking bored out of his doggy mind.
You try to throw a ball for him, play fetch. He refuses to chase it. He just runs around you in circles, nips at your heels. Herds you into running with him. Then he’ll refuse to go faster than a walk, once you get tired. As if he knows.
You try to throw a frisbee for him. That, he likes. He catches it in the air, almost as if he’s showing off. Then he’ll bring it back, but refuses to release it from his jaws. You learn that you have to kiss him on his pretty white head in order for him to give it up. His tail wags furiously, every time you do.
This dog is making you insane.
When you come home, exhausted from a particularly tough battle, or an even more grueling day of paperwork, he waits for you at the door, his beautiful, blood-bright eyes big and excited to see you, his tail wagging so furiously the whole lower half of his body shakes.
You suddenly don’t feel so tired, as you kneel down, press your face into the scruff of his neck. His soft fur smells so good to you, even though he’s just a dog. You no longer feel lonely, or dread coming home to your empty, quiet apartment.
After a while, you resign yourself to hanging up the posters once you get home from work. The last hurdle, before you dare hope that you can keep him.
When you arrive at your place after work, you find Sylus on the balcony. Somehow, the window is open, just wide enough for two crows to perch there. They chatter at your dog. He just huffs in response, but makes no effort to bark at them, or chase them away. 
The entire floor of the balcony is covered with the torn-apart paper strips of what used to be the posters advertising the dog you found, with your phone number on it in case someone is missing their beloved pet.
Your beloved pet.
You wonder if it’s so terrible, to just… accept that you’ll never know who had him before. And that he’s yours now. They should have chipped him, collared him, branded him as theirs if they care about him. You decide to get his tag engraved. 
You put the hanging of posters on the backburner in your mind.
You eat with him. You, sitting at your kitchen island. Him, out of his bowl next to your stool. You snuggle with him while watching movies, TV. You take him for walks, for runs. He’s your constant companion, when you’re not at work.
When Xavier comes over to hang out, to cook and read, Sylus basically crawls into your lap despite your protests and his size, and won’t move unless you promise to make him meat along with the ramen you make for yourself and Xav. Once you’re done and back to reading, he’s back, impersonating a chihuahua instead of the wolf he probably is as he wiggles into your lap.
One evening, you’re dumping more meat into your picky-as-fuck dog’s bowl when you receive a call from an unknown number.
You answer.
“Hey. Um. Hi.” A tentative voice.
You wait. The other end is quiet. “May I ask who is calling?” you prompt, hoping you can just hang up. You hate talking on the phone. It’s never good, when someone is calling you out of the blue. Warn a person with a text, damn!
You’re about to hang up when the other person says. “Hi, yeah, sorry. I’m your blind date. The one from when you had to leave to fight Wanderers?”
You shake your head, shocked. You had completely forgotten that you had given this guy your number. “Oh, hey. What’s up?” you ask, dreading his answer.
“Yeah, hi.” He chuckles nervously. “Thanks for picking up. I was, uh, actually calling to see if you’d like a… if you’d like a re-do. With just the two of us?”
You blink. Try to think of an excuse. 
You think of Tara, her badgering you to live for more than just work. To build new relationships. How much effort she puts into trying to introduce you to people she thinks you might like.
Even though you don’t like anyone. 
Except your friends.
You glance at Sylus, who has lifted his head from his paws, his ears pointed at you, like he’s listening intently.
Except your dog.
Your mind is blank. “Uh, okay,” you blurt, wincing. “When is a good time for you?”
He rattles off some dates. You check your Hunter’s watch, settle on a date, a time, a place to meet.
He sounds excited, like he can’t quite believe you agreed to go out with him again, before you end the call.
You shake your head. How bad can it be? It’s just dinner. You get to eat, and then you’ll let him down gently. Or maybe, who knows? You might feel a spark, a spark that’s been missing for you, for so long. You try to be positive. Maybe this guy will be the one to make your heart race, when no one else has been able to.
You get ready for bed.
Sylus is already curled up next to your pillow, no longer even pretending to initially sleep at the end of the bed like the first night you ordered him to do.
You crawl into bed, lift the duvet for him to slide under, and he curls up against your chest and stomach. You fall asleep easily, as you’ve been able to do, ever since he came home with you.
You come awake slowly. 
Like the first morning you brought Sylus home, something wakes you, but it’s not your alarm.
You’re warm. Really warm.
But instead of the soft fur that you’ve come to expect, waking up every morning with your dog taking up more than his fair share of the bed, you feel smooth, warm… skin?
You turn your head. Look over your shoulder, to the source of the warmth at your back.
You think you might be dreaming.
You must be dreaming.
What else could explain the gorgeous, very human, white-haired, red-eyed man looking back at you from your own pillow, where your dog used to be?
This dog is making you insane.
Are you so desperate for companionship that you can stand, that will make your heart race, that you’re dreaming that your beloved dog is the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life?
What the fuck would a therapist have to say about this dream?
You’re so, so glad that you don’t have a therapist, and will never, ever have to tell anyone about this fucking dream.
You slowly turn your head again. Close your eyes. Your alarm hasn’t gone off, after all. Maybe you can just go to sleep in your dream, wake up, and pretend this never happened.
You hear a low laugh rumbling behind you, rumbling through you. 
A muscular arm snakes over your side, pulls you back against a warm, pillowy chest. “Is this how you greet your good boy?” A deep voice, rough with sleep but still soaked in amusement, murmurs in your ear.
“My good boy is a big fluffy dog,” you bite out, squeezing your eyes shut harder against the warmth, the muscles, the voice. “I don’t know what the fuck you are, other than a really weird dream.”
A big hand—alarmingly big—lifts from your stomach, where it was holding you tight, and tenderly brushes your hair away from your neck, your ear. The … dream behind you noses into the back of your neck, inhales. “I have fluffy hair. And I think you can feel what I am, without even needing to look.” The dream adjusts his hips. Your eyes open, despite your best efforts, widen as you feel a big—alarmingly big—dick against your ass.
“I am not having a sex dream about my dog,” you declare.
The dream laughs, low, a rich fucker’s laugh. “No, you’re not having a sex dream about your dog,” he says. “Unless you’re into that. And then I can oblige, but it’s still my mind inside your dog, I’m afraid.”
Okay, that’s enough. You whip around in the dream’s arms, stare into familiar ruby-glow eyes, so close to you, sharing the same pillow. “Who the fuck are you?”
One corner of his full mouth lifts. He’s so beautiful, it hurts. Your heart is racing.
“You should know,” he says, eyes drifting from your eyes, to your mouth. He lifts a hand again, runs it along your hair, so, so gently. “You named me, after all.”
You don’t dare hope. Just as you haven’t dared hope that you could keep him, from the moment you saw him launch himself at the Wanderer slinking up behind you, preparing to attack you. As you saw him rip out its throat, and watched, heart in your throat, as he was flung into the soft snow as a consequence.
You’re afraid to say it. To name your insane hope.
This dog is making you insane.
“Why so quiet? You couldn’t stop talking to me, telling me about your day, about your dreams, your fears—telling me what a wonderful boy I am, when I was your dog. Does this form not please you?” he asks, letting his hand fall from your hair. He takes your hand instead, places it on his own hair.
It’s so, so soft. Even softer than his fur. You can’t help yourself. You pet him, brushing your fingers through its shimmering strands.
You finally manage to speak. You don’t want him to ever think that you don’t delight in him. “I didn’t say it doesn’t please me.”
“Then say that it pleases you.”
You think of all the moments you’ve shared with him. All of the things you’ve said to him, as he’s lived at your side, in your house. You wince. Then you think of how he made Zayne carry him to his car.
“You could walk, that first day. Zayne didn’t have to carry you.”
He looks pleased, smug. It’s jarring, seeing the expression on his human face that you felt like you saw on his doggy face. “I was injured,” he sniffs. “Any doctor with an ounce of compassion would have offered to carry your injured pet.”
You scowl at him, ignoring his jab at Zayne. “You intentionally soaked me, in the bathroom, that first night.”
He smiles wider, just a little, a canine tooth peeking out between his lips. “But I didn’t make you strip off all your clothes and groom me while gloriously nude. That was all you, sweetheart.”
You lean forward, bury your face in his warm, strong neck. “You ate my fucking underwear.”
He coughs, the first time sounding a little abashed. “When I’m shapeshifted, certain urges… are amplified. Keep that in mind, if you want me to fuck you as a—”
You jerk back, cover his mouth with your hands. “I do not want to fuck you as a dog, Sylus.”
“Excellent, I’ll fuck you as a human then,” he says, voice muffled from behind your hand, but his subtle smile loud and clear under your palms. 
“Sylus!”
“Yes, owner?” he asks, eyes wide, falsely innocent.
You drop your hands. “Don’t call me owner,” you whisper. “You’re my companion, not my possession. You have been from the day you came home with me.”
“Then say that this form pleases you,” he says, sounding uncertain for the first time.
“How can it not?” you ask. “You’re beautiful.”
He shrugs. “Not everyone sees what you see.”
“You’re beautiful. But you’re a naughty boy,” you say, slipping your fingers under the collar he’s still wearing. It’s loose on his human neck. You pull, gently. He whimpers.
“A very naughty boy,” he agrees, breathless. “How will you punish me?”
“First, by making you wash Zayne’s scarf. It wasn’t nice what you did to it.” You punctuate each word, by pulling his collar a little for emphasis. He grumbles, but looks slightly drunk. Eyes half lidded in pleasure. You continue. “And by interrogating you. Who are you, really?” You have so many questions, even as you feel him, hard and warm, against your stomach. 
He huffs. “Would you believe me if I said that I’m the head of the largest criminal organization on the planet, and I’m the most wanted criminal on not one, but two planets?”
You stare at him. Laugh a little. “You were my dog, and now you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my bed. I’d believe you if you said you’ve loved me for lifetimes, and have been waiting for me to be reincarnated in order to make me fall in love with you all over again.”
“How convenient,” he says. “Because that’s the other answer to your question.”
You laugh, loudly. 
This dog is making you insane.
“Wanted criminal, soulmate. Irrelevant. You ate my fucking underwear, Sylus.”
He leans forward, nudges your nose with his long, regal snout. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and your heart races, races. “Is it a crime to want to savor something so delicious?”
“It’s a crime in some jurisdictions to pilfer underwear, yes,” you say, laughing, breathless in turn. You return his kiss. His lips are so, so soft. He makes a little sound of pleasure in his throat.
“Then arrest your naughty boy,” he murmurs. “And teach him what the real thing tastes like, instead of the leftovers.”
“You like leftovers,” you tease, thinking of all the takeout meat you’ve been setting out in his doggy bowl in between the fresh stuff.
“With you, I’ll take what I can get,” he admits. “But maybe if you tell me how to be a good boy for you, you can reward me with a fresh taste.”
Your heart is going berserk in your chest, as you look into his earnest, big, wet, crimson puppy eyes. It doesn’t matter, that he has been lying to you this whole time. That he’s tricked you into revealing so many of your secrets to him, as he wagged his tail for you, kept you warm in bed, as he ran by your side, kilometer after kilometer. Your heart is racing, and you think it recognized him, the moment you looked into his beautiful eyes in the snow.
You tell him how he can be a good boy. He uses his mouth, his big pink tongue, to soften you, make you wet. He licks you, like he licked your underwear. With single-minded, hypnotized focus. You tell him to mind his teeth, when he gets bitey, gently flick his ear to get his attention. His eyes drift between being closed as he savors your taste, and open, eagerly watching your face as he pleasures you, as your body begins to shake, as you gush into his mouth.
You lie there panting for a few minutes, watching him as he licks his lips, his fingers, his palms. Like a dog, licking its paws after making a mess in its bowl.
You suddenly desperately need to return the favor. You roll to your side, sit up. “I want to taste you, too.” He looks surprised, but pleased. He gets up on his knees, takes the back of your head tenderly in his big palm, petting your hair with his other hand. You open your mouth, and he guides his big cock to your lips, smears his own wetness across your lower lip, before gently feeding you his dick.
You have to open your mouth all the way, to allow him in. He moves his hips, little jerks, watching your reaction before sliding deeper, silken along your tongue, ember-eyes glowing under half-lidded lashes. You can’t take all of him, he’s just too big. You suck, use your tongue. Offer your hand, wet and sloppy for your dripping mouth, for him to tunnel through. He helps you adjust your grip. He grunts, with each little thrust. Helpless noises in his big, big throat. He smells so, so good. Skin, and sweat. A bitter tang from his leaking dick.
Finally, he loses patience. “I don’t want to come in your mouth. I want to come between your legs.” He’s panting, hair messy, sweeping over his forehead. “I want you to feel good too. May I? Please? I’ll make it so good for you.” His deep voice has a whiny edge.
You nod, looking up at him, mouth still stuffed with him. 
He slowly pulls out of your mouth, uses his hand on the back of your head to urge you up to meet him, so that you’re kneeling on the bed too. He wraps his big arms around you, hugs you, tightly. Kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye. “Are you sure? How do you want me?”
You lift your hands to his cheeks, kiss him too. His cheek. The corner of his eye. His lips. “You’ve been such a good boy, making me feel good with your mouth. You can have me however you’d like me.”
He doesn’t have a tail to wag right now, but if he did, you think he’d wag himself off the bed. He kisses you, hard, tongue licking into your mouth. He eagerly urges you down, onto your back. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, and you’re grateful for all the mobility, the stretching you do as part of your job, as he splits you wide open, holds you by your ankles, and fucks into you slowly, so slowly at first, before leaning down, bending you in half, filling you hard and fast, over and over again. Sounds come out of you that you’ve never heard before, because you’ve never felt so good, so full before. He fucks into you at an angle that makes you moan loudly, surprised, and he ruts into you there again, and again. “Am I your good boy?” he pants, desperate, in your ear.
“You’re such a good boy, Sylus,” you assure him, turning your head, biting down on his earlobe. “My good boy.” He suddenly comes, hips jerking messily, with a loud whine, a deep grunt. 
After, when your sheets are filthy and you’re both sweaty, cum drenched messes, you rest your head on his big chest, let your fingers circle one pink nipple, sift through the human fur swirling around it.
“Why didn’t you just introduce yourself like a normal person, ask me on a date?”
He snorts. “Oh, hello, my name is Sylus Qin, I’m the leader of Onychinus and your employer’s public enemy number one. May I buy you a drink? Perhaps, fuck you stupid afterwards? Love you for the rest of our lives?” His voice is wry.
You laugh, delight ballooning in your chest at his sense of humor. “Okay, maybe that would have been a little much, and I would have been suspicious. But infiltrating my life as a dog?”
He touches his finger to his lip, tilts his head. “I thought about kidnapping you. Violently trying to jog your memory by re-enacting our contentious first meeting.”
You swat his chest with your hand. “That’s a terrible fucking idea.”
“In retrospect, you are correct. Fortunately for me, the twins talked me out of it. They convinced me that being a cute, cuddly dog would be more… effective.”
You look up at him, curious. “The twins?”
He hums, low in his throat. “You’ve met them. Crows on the balcony.”
You think back, remembering the mysteriously opened window. The “Found” posters, ripped to confetti on your balcony. “The ones who destroyed my posters.”
Sylus nods, strokes his knuckles down your cheek, your neck. “The unnecessary posters containing your personal information, like your phone number, for any random fool to use to call and bother you.”
You sigh. Drift for a while, wondering how you’re going to explain your new dog and your new man in your life to your friends. To your family. “Caleb is going to hate you.”
He smirks. “I’m not worried about your brother.”
You look at him curiously. “You know who he is?”
He leans down, inhales your sweaty hair. Makes a happy noise. “I like to stay informed when I’m interested in a new acquisition. And you’re the most valuable thing I’ll ever acquire.”
You roll your eyes. “Why are you not worried about him? He’s been so weird, since he’s been back. Possessive.”
Sylus gestures at his arm, as if to indicate Caleb’s new augmentation. “I’m good with weapons. I’ll tinker in his arm, give him a little upgrade. Maybe give him sensation back. He’ll love me.”
You stare at him. No one else is supposed to know about Caleb’s arm. It’s like, a state secret. “How do you know so much about upgrading weapons?” you ask, instead of asking how he knows about Caleb.
“Do you really want to know?” He lifts a lovely silver eyebrow. “It has to do with my business. I’ll tell you, but you have to keep it a secret.”
You rest your cheek back on his chest. “Another time, maybe. I’m too tired to process all the shady shit you must do in order to be on the Association’s most wanted list. You definitely fucked me stupid.”
You feel him preen underneath you at your compliment. His invisible tail wags, wags. “Not just on the list, sweetheart. At the top of the list,” he says, smug. “And shady shit… You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, beloved? Like accepting the equivalent of a retroactive bribe from your vet, and breaking all sorts of Linkon City laws to keep your ‘dog?’”
You groan. “I can’t believe you witnessed that.”
“I feel privileged to have witnessed your fall from grace, and all because of me,” he teases you, hugging you tightly.
You just shake your head, close your eyes. Fret about your brother again. “You think you can handle him?”
He scoffs again. “Once he sees how sincere I am, he’ll have no choice but to accept me as your other half.”
You hold your breath. Ask him what you’re dying to know, what you haven’t dared hope, even as you gave in to your racing heart, your affection for him, and loved him with your body, as well as your heart. “So you’re sincere?”
He gently flicks your forehead. “You’re the only person, in any lifetime, that I’d eat out of a bowl on the ground for, beloved.”
You laugh, kiss his chest, right over where his strong, big heart is beating.
In the end, you get to keep him. You let your blind date down gently, but decisively.
You come home one day, and he is eagerly waiting for you, in his human form. You had promised him a treat, after all.
“You’ll have to bend down a little,” you say.
Without hesitation, Sylus drops to his knees, and then places his hands on the floor.
You stare down at him, as he looks up at you, soft white hair, soft red eyes, gleaming in the light.
Your heart is racing again, just from his eyes on you, his scent filling your apartment.
You bend down, thread a new, subtle leather collar around his neck. It will hang on the wall, when he’s using his doggy collar, in his big wolf form. But when he’s a man, out in the world, away from you on business, getting up to no good and causing trouble—as he still occasionally does in your bedroom as he manages to tear the stuffing out of the plushies you’ve caught with other people when you’re away for too long—he’ll wear this one for you.
The one that says good boy on the heart-shaped tag on one side, and your name on the other.
You never do make that neutering appointment with the vet.
257 notes · View notes
cloudyskydreams · 3 months ago
Note
Hello I've loved all your writing and hope to see more if its okay to ask how would the skeletons react if the reader came home badly hurt from someone sorry if this make you uncomfortable keep up with the amazing rewiring love to see more
Hello! Let me just say I adored your cosplay of Black it looks so good!!
Secondly, there's not alot that'll make me uncomfortable! Just letting everyone know that for future reference if you got some weird or gross or angsty ideas I have no prob writing them ::3!
Anyways these were actually really fun to write and kept me busy at work when it was slow. Thanks so much for requesting!! Hope you guys enjoy ::>
Undertale:
Sans:
His sockets widen and his eyelights shrinks upon seeing you. He teleports over quickly and gets you to the couch as he asks what happened. He listens to your explanation as he makes you a 'dog for the healing properties and gets to work bandaging you up. He's pretty calm throughout it but he's not really cracking jokes and you can see the sweat dripping down his skull. Once you're considerably better than before he lets out a sigh of relief and cuddles close to you content to keep you company for now. Now Sans isn't a violent guy really he's more of a bard. Talk his way out of the situation. Later though, later he's going to find that douchebag and show them a bad time
Papyrus:
Papyrus smiles upon hearing the door open and spins around in the kitchen to greet you happily. His face contorts to one of horror upon seeing your state and the plate in his hand drops smashing across the kitchen floor. He's over by your side in a quick few strides and gently carries you to the bathroom where he sets you down on the couch. He gets you some of his monster candy stash and bandages you up asking about what happened, he sits next to you and gently asks if you'd like to call the police stating he'll be by your side the whole time. If you say no he might just go by himself when he gets the chance and report what he knows.
Underfell:
Red:
Upon first seeing you bruised and battered Red's mind goes blank. He stares at you for a solid minute with empty sockets before he starts yelling as he grabs you by the wrist , surprisingly gently, and leads you to the bathroom. He bandages you up and disinfects any wounds as well as giving you a monster candy before he demands to know who the fuck hurt you. He stays by your side till you fall asleep very clearly pissed off still everytime he looks at your state but trying to be soft for you. Then when you're sleeping he leaves the house to hunt that fucker down and send them to the hospital with all their teeth knocked out and a few broken bones.
Edge:
He sees you and his fists clench by his side as he takes in your battered form. He walks over and gently searches you for any serious wounds assessing how badly you're hurt before leading you to the bathroom to patch you up. He stays calm and level headed but eeriely silent for the most part until he's done bandaging you. Then he inquires about what happened, where, and with who. Once he has all the details he kisses you softly and mutters how he's so glad you're okay before leaving you wrapped up in blankets on the couch with a comfort show and some monster snacks to help you heal. He's gonna rough the guy up then drag him to the police station and force him to confess.
Underswap:
Blue:
Blue's bright smile quickly falls and the quick steps he was taking to you falter as he sees you standing in the doorway. He rushes over a deadly serious look on his face as he looks you over. He gently leads you inside and phones the police as he's getting medical supplies and some monster food. He patches you up the best he can while telling the operator what he knows from what you tell him. The police arrive and interrogate you and Blue stays by your side holding your hand the entire time and comforting you.
Stretch:
He's sitting on the couch when you come in and he calls out over the back of it. When you don't reply he looks over and sees your state sending him into a state of shock. He quickly teleports over and lets you lean against him as he walks you to the couch. He's panicking inside he doesn't really know what to do as the sight of the state your in knocked all common sense out of him. So he calls his brother as he gets medical supplies and monster food. His brother shows up and after seeing the sight of you calls the police which makes Stretch freak out a little more. So he's by you're side clinging to you and trying to reassure you to the best of his ability while you and Blue deal with the Police.
HorrorTale:
Axe:
His eyelight shrinks to the smallest it's been and his hand immediately starts tugging on his empty sockets as he stares at you. It takes him a little bit to process the situation and by that time you're already inside. He's over by your side quickly shoving monster snacks in your hands as he looks over the wounds. He doesn't remember where the bandages are so you have to tell him where and he gets them. Very gently wraps you up acts as if you're porcelain. He sits you in his lap afterwards and cuddles up close starting to purr softly hoping it will help calm you. He asks what happened and listens with intense silence. He writes it down so he doesn't forget but leaves the person as a problem for another day he's more focused on you right now.They may think they got away with it but he won't forget about them not after what they did to you.
Willow:
He sees you and gasps already by your side and scooping you up as gently as he can. He sets you on the couch softly and looks over your wounds. Gets you some leftovers from the dinner made last night for the monster food healing properties and bandages what needs it. He runs his fingers through your hair as he considers his options. He doesn't mention anything to you though as he gently takes care of you babying you throughout the night but makes sure to get as much information as he can out of you. Once you're asleep he writes down everything you said and finds Axe who hadn't seen you yet and mentions the situation before handing over the paper. He's got a small brotherly favor to cash in tonight.
172 notes · View notes
jester089 · 1 year ago
Note
I feel I need to balance this angst out, do this AFTER you’ve done the others and given yourself time to chill…I’ve got my eyes on you…
Anyhow, how’s about the TADC gang all seperate with an s/o who’s just the definition of ‘chill’. They are the best comfort partner (just behind Kinger ofc), they comfort, share and engage in hobbies, show small signs of affection like soft side hugs and gentle butterfly kisses to the cheeks or neck, an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. Will also 100% piggyback/bridal carry their significant other if asked or for fun. Just a pure wholesome fuzzy mess.
Lazy days
This is just going to be what I think their hobbies and all are. As it's a fluffy request I'm going to do softer not cannon versions of everyone. TADC crew x Chill/Relaxed Reader
Caine
Caine can be an incredibly busy man/AI so try and make him take breaks. He gets to caught up in work because he's so worried that if he doesn't have fun things to do then people will start abstracting. So when you walk into his office gently pick him up and sit down in his chair with him now sitting on your lap it helps him snap out of it. He isn't going to stop still. But he really appreciates you being there. You being there and every now and again giving him an idea you had makes the work take longer, but makes it much more enjoyable. You'll honestly probably end up falling asleep on him, arms wrapped around him head on his shoulder. Sadly he doesn't have a neck, or any real exposed skin. So kisses will be a little rough but that isn't gonna stop you. It is a little weird kissing a giant set of teeth though. And second he finished up, or at least reaches a point where he can stop you pick him up and take him to your bed. Sometimes he'll tunnel vision to much on something and you'll have to do that anyways. It's like holding an angry cat when that happens, minus the claws.
Gangle
Gangle loves affection but isn't amazing at giving nor receiving it. Any time you do anything she can and will blush. And if you protect her from Jax. Putty Gangle has arrived. How relaxed you are despite everything happening helps her out a lot. I headcannon that she loves working with clay, like making pottery and all. But sadly with her ribbon hands she can't do it anymore. Or rather couldn't, cause you help her out. You two will sit in front of a potters wheel. You have her place her hands on the outside of yours and you just let her lead. (I have made plenty of pottery in my time and I can safely say it is incredibly hard to do.) Sadly unless your helping her with something she doesn't let you in her pottery station anymore. You tried to make a mug for her without her and it didn't go well. You didn't know the first thing about pottery when she wasn't guiding you so it ended up blowing up in the kiln. You felt really bad. Cuddles with Gangle are a little strange. She doesn't have any real body weight so it really does feel like your cuddling a piece of ribbon (for good reason). So you two came up with something. You got a body pillow that's around her height and when you two are cuddling she'll wrap around it so she has more mass. When she needs some comfort you'll know. Whenever she's in a really bad mood and wants you touch but doesn't really want to say it she'll exist really close to you and start gently wrapping one of her arms around yours. Overall 10/10, she's a giant sweetheart and your lucky you got her. So treat her well yeah?
Zooble
I recommend bringing some kind of hoodie or blanket with you. Her edges can be a little harsh on the body. Out of everyone Zooble is the highest chance of most cuddles. She never gets involved in adventures and avoids the others when she can. Which basically just means more alone time with her. Zooble has a lot of insecurities concerning her new body and the circus. You're the only one she trust enough with that kind of thing so don't downplay her thoughts and emotions. The main way she shows affection is just spending time with you, she isn't big on touch and she doesn't exactly have the resources for gifts. And that worries her, she knows that she can be rude and unpleasant to be around but she doesn't have anything else to offer you. She's not great at communication so you really just need to keep patient and keep loving her. She has a jagged and rough exterior, but it like everything can be broken. It'll just take time.
Kinger
You two make a great bunch. The others never would have thought but if someone is having an especially bad day they go to you two. Kinger is amazing at calming and encouraging words, and your amazing at calming acts and setting up an atmosphere. You've saved a lot from abstraction because of that. Hugs are amazing from him. That royal medieval robe he's wearing is really nice to the touch. Sadly he doesn't have a mouth but he'll try and make up for that with head bonks (Head bonk: To gently place your head against someone you care about to show affection. Usually used when that person isn't comfortable with kisses.) One time you two built an actual castle out of pillows. It took you like a day but it had a working drawbridge and everything! Sadly it was broken during an adventure but it was really fun to build with Kinger. He can get a little... Unstable... When that happens a tight hug and a kiss can usually snap him out of it. But if that doesn't work bring him back to your room. The atmosphere you have set up and the fact that it smells like you will help him out a lot.
Ragatha
Once again you two make a good combo. She holds people off from breaking down. But if she can't stop it then she sends em to you. So once again you two help with abstraction a lot. But poor baby is stressed and you help provide some needed relief. I see her as the type of if she was expecting a kiss or a hug she'll hug/kiss back and thank you. If she wasn't she turns into a blushing mess with a big ol dopey smile on her face. Something she appreciates a lot is more childish things. Like if you start up a pillow fight with her she will be ecstatic. But be warned her pillows hit like a truck. Not cause their different just because she's really good at pillow fights. Her fav cuddle type is the honeymoon hug (look it up). She gets to be close to you and give you smooches if she wants. And she gets to feel like she's protecting you. She is the mom friend and you annoy her by saying over the top things like. "Ok MOM" when she asks you to stop doing something. First few times she hated it but now she goes along with it sayng things like "Hey! Don't talk back to me. Give me your phone you're grounded." She never means it though.
Jax
I think Jax is the most stable person in the circus. I'm saying he's mentally ok I'm just saying that he is by far at the least risk for abstraction. Whenever Jax plays a joke on someone and you go to help calm them down he gets a little jealous. He knows you love him but he doesn't really like you talking to others. So don't be surprised if you're in the middle of comforting someone and he just picks you up and walks away. He can be a little mean so for your own sake try and not take his words to heart. He just by second nature starts pointing things out that he dislikes, and often he starts pointing out things on/to do with you before he realizes. He also won't apologize so just try and ignore it. He sorta makes up for it with affection though. Cause he's pretty affectionate. Most of it is teasing yes, like he's come out of no where kiss your cheek and use a pet name that flusters you then just leave like he didn't do anything. But he's surprisingly gentle when it comes to that kind of thing. I see him being the type where you two fall asleep in the same bed and you wake up with him having his arms and legs around you probably drooling on your forehead. Or he's one of those that take up the whole bed so you often wake up on the floor. Many say that opposites attract. And you two are very different. But that isn't a bad thing.
Pomni
You two are opposites in a lot of ways. She is anxious and constantly in a state of panic/worry. And you never are. So you help her a lot. I see her being kind of like a cat towards you. Constantly around you and or begging for attention. I have an idea that I came up with a few years ago. It's a hoodie with a giant pocket inside. Like one of those baby carriers but minus the straps and inside the hoodie so who/whatever you keep in there share warmth. And she loves it. You two can be relaxing in your room and she'll realize something and spring off the bed you two were on. She and will turn the entire place upside down looking for it (https://www.tiktok.com/@louiencoco/video/7214862848042831110) so if you don't wanna have to clean up later just show her where it is. On a more serious note though you two were a match made in heaven and with enough time you could make a genuine improvement in her mental health. The main reason she's so fragile mentally is cause she never gets/got a break. So her favorite activity with you is probably just relaxing in one of your rooms away from the others.
(Tumblr deleted this like 3 times while I was writing it. And it turned out kind of bad because of that. Sorry but don't blame me. Blame tumblr.)
xoxo, Jester
898 notes · View notes
reidsaurora · 7 months ago
Note
Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe
i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner
Tumblr media
Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…
Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader
Word Count: 2,019
Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!
Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂
Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024
Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
Summer Celebration info can be found here!
Tumblr media
Sun Kissed - fluff requests
Malibu Dream House - domestic!au
Tumblr media
Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.
Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”
“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”
Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”
“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.
You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”
He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”
Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”
“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”
“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”
His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.
One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.
Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.
His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.
“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.
“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”
As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.
“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”
“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”
They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”
“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”
It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.
“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”
It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.
Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”
You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”
Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”
Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.
Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.
“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.
Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.
Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”
Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.
“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.
“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”
You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”
JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”
Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”
“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”
“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.
“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”
“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”
Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”
“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”
You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.
Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.
Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.
Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”
Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”
“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”
“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.
“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.
You scoffed. “It was not that look.”
“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.
Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”
“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.
The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.
“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”
“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.
You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.
Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”
The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.
“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.
JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”
“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”
Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.
“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.
“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”
And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”
Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.
Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.
“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”
Tumblr media
taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea
Tumblr media
401 notes · View notes
dreamsofbroflovski · 3 months ago
Text
Leopold "Butters" Stotch x Reader - sweet escape
Also available on ao3!
Tumblr media
Summary: When you and your darling boyfriend break up, Eric Cartman's inner cupid decides to make sure you two get back together... By fucking your way right out of that argument.
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (EVERYONE INVOLVED IS ABOVE THE AGE OF CONSENT), Explicit Language, Cisgender female Reader, Aphrodisiacs, Nipple Play, Nipple Orgasm, Penis In Vagina Sex, Bathroom Sex, Creampie
A/N: I've had this in my Docs for almost 2 months now, and never got to properly finish it. Then yesterday I went berserk and stayed until 4am writing and cleaning up the draft so I could have it up by today.
We have an utter drought of Butters x Reader smut in this fandom, so I hope I did our sweet guy justice.
Obligatory "English is not my first language, if anything sounds like total nonsense it probably is so please let me know" This is also my first fic after whole years without writing anything creative and my first smut work in general and IDK how to feel about it
Tumblr media
It was your average Monday morning in Park County. People from all walks of life had frowns on their faces as they made their way to school or work, missing the protection of their warm blankets and the peacefulness of a deep sleep. In your high school, most of the students hung about in the hallways as they waited for classes to start, and the cliques standing around together provided some warmth for its members, both emotionally and physically.
At the end of one of the corridors, in one of the staircases, hung out a particular group of young men, lazing around and chatting about their weekend like everyone else. Some of them stood, leaning on the wall or the handrail, while others sat on the steps, basically creating a barricade against anyone who wanted to go up or down the stairs - not that many people tried, anyway; over the course of their high school days all the way to the current senior year, the South Park boys had kind of made that particular part of the stairs their hangout spot, and the other students really just preferred to take any necessary detours than have to deal with the certified biggest assholes in the whole school.
As they began to engage in yet another heated debate over some useless topic, almost none of them saw a certain blonde man arrive. This was not abnormal - most people were never paying attention to Butters, unless they needed him for a favor. What was abnormal, however, was the expression he carried. Butters was a normally friendly and peaceful person, always with a smile on his face even in the most inhospitable of days; to see him like he was now, walking with heavy steps like a soldier, his face down and gaze fixed on his own feet, it didn’t take much from anyone to see that he was not doing well. 
“Hey there, fellas.” He spoke in an unusually low voice, not looking up for even a second to acknowledge his peers. Almost all the other boys responded with a quiet Hey or a quick movement of the head, but he didn’t acknowledge either of those greetings, too engulfed in his own feelings.
“Oh, hey, Butters, there you are.” Cartman said, looking briefly at his direction but almost seeing past him, clearly not realizing what was amiss - Eric couldn’t care about someone else’s feelings to save his life. “Thank God you’re here, I have to talk to you about something later and it’s really important, if you didn’t show up it would’ve really fucked me over. You’re really gonna have to make up to me later for that. We’ll go over what you can do during lunch, so tell your bitch to - hey, where’s your bitch, anyway?”
“I DON’T KNOW, I DON’T CARE, AND IF ANY OF YOU DO THEN YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES!” was Butters’ immediate answer, in such a thundering angry tone that it made the whole group flinch in fear. This was the first moment he actually looked at his so-called friends that Monday, and his face was one of pure fury. “And if YOU-” he turned in his heels to face Cartman, pointing a finger at his face, “-think I’m going to be a part of whatever fucking evil deeds you have planned right now, then you better sit that fat ass of yours down, because I ain’t helping you anymore, got it?” He turned again to glare at the rest of the guys, who all had wide eyes. “Or any of you bitches either! I’m done with you jerks! DONE!”
“Dude, dude, calm down, it’s okay-” Kyle was the one to first try and appease the situation, seeing as everyone else was too afraid to make a movement. He tried to reach an arm out to Butters, but it was promptly slapped out of his reach by the latter.
“IT’S NOT FUCKING OKAY! Everyone hates you, y’all fucking hate each other, and then you sit around here and pretend to be best friends! Oh, but y’all won’t say anything because if you do y’all gon’ have to hang around with fucking Kip Drordy ‘till graduation! And I’ll tell you what else-”
He eventually became engulfed by his own rage, breathing rapidly as he looked around for anything else he could say his truth about.
“Easy there, buddy. Look, I haven’t had breakfast yet, how about you and I go pick up a snack in one of the vending machines?” Kenny tapped on Butters’ shoulder, gesturing in the direction of the canteen.
“I don’t want no goddamn snack!” Butters yelled right in Kenny’s ear, but the latter didn’t even acknowledge the rudeness, being used to worse back at his house.
“Yes, you do. Now let’s go.”
The whole staircase group watched in silence as Kenny dragged Butters far away, and then all faces turned to Cartman.
“Great job there, fatass.” Kyle snarled, rolling his eyes.
“Fuck you, Kyle! What the hell did I do now?” Cartman raised his voice, pointing a finger in Kyle’s face, then signaling with his other hand towards the corridor through which Butters had just left. “He’s the one that started acting like a chick on her period! That’s got nothing to do with me!”
“You provoked him, dude! You know he’s sensitive about that shit these days!”
“Butters is always sensitive, dude! What is his problem NOW?”
The other boys looked at each other, unsure if Cartman’s behavior was legitimate. “You really don’t know what you did?” Kyle asked, almost a surprised tone in his voice, his eyebrows arched.
“No! If I’m going to be blamed for shit, at least tell me what it is!” Eric huffed, tired of the back-and-forth.
Kyle took a deep breath. “Butters and (Y/N) broke up this weekend.”
The news had Cartman legitimately shocked. “Really? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“But he did. He told all of us.” Stan picked up his phone and turned the screen towards Cartman, with the messages app open, and started scrolling up quickly with his free hand, which made it impossible for the other to be even able to read anything. “It’s all over the group chat, dude.”
“Oh, right. I didn’t read that shit, I was rushing the battle pass for the new Fortnite season.” Cartman waved his hand in dismissal and Stan put his phone back in his pocket.
“Then you can’t complain about not being informed of stuff as soon as it happens.”
“Alright, alright, my bad. But man, hope they get back together.”
Eric wasn’t really feeling bad about causing Butters to snap or worried about your romance out of care for his friend. More so, like everything else in his life, the fatass wanted you to sort your issues because that would bring him personal benefit. He needed your lover for something in the coming days, a very important plan he had been cooking, and that breakup could very well ruin it all.
When you and Butters first got together, Cartman thought this was the death of his most useful pawn, maybe he’d even have to spy on your relationship to make sure you wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience. To his surprise, the opposite turned out to be true - the already affable young man became even more docile, if that was even possible. He was also willing to do damn near anything if it meant your happiness, so the only thing Cartman ever had to do to get his help was make up some bullshit story about how that scheme was actually going to be great for your relationship and how you’d be so glad if Butters just assisted him with this one thing (despite said thing having nothing to do with you at all, and you normally not being aware of the stuff until it happened). Since the blonde was mad at you, that meant the usual strategies wouldn’t stick.
Whatever it was that was creating this rift between you two, it had to end fast.
“But why the hell did they break up, anyway?” Eric continued, hoping to gather more information that he could use to reverse the situation.
“You’d know if you read the group chat!”, three or four of the guys answered in unison.
“Hell, I don’t read the group chat either and even I know what happened”, said Craig. He wasn’t usually one to engage in his colleagues’ dumb fighting, so, since the most aloof person on Earth had an opinion on the subject, Cartman knew he’d been missing out.
“You don’t read the group chat?!” Tweek yelped, looking at Craig with a panicked expression on his face - even more panicked than the one he had at any given time. “ACK!- You gotta read it, babe! What if one of us gets injured, dies, and you never find out because you didn’t read the group chat? What if EVERYONE dies and our last wishes are all in the group chat? UGH!”
He then seemingly got really scared of this hypothetical situation he himself created, proceeding to hyperventilate and tremble on the spot.
“I don’t read them because you do, babe. Then you tell me everything. Your texts are the only ones I ever need to read.” 
Craig patted Tweek’s hair a few times and kissed him on the forehead after speaking, which seemed to calm down the anxious male, who let out a contented sigh as his lungs seemed to finally allow him to breathe properly again. Everyone else around rolled their eyes at this, and Jimmy, out of the couple’s line of sight, stuck his tongue out and made a gesture pointing down his throat as if going to vomit.
“What do you guys do when the girls are mad at you, though?” Kyle asked, looking across the group, focusing on no one in particular - Kyle was the only one there who never managed to be in a long-term relationship (his surreal bad luck with women was extremely good content for jokes around those parts), and wouldn’t have an answer to that particular question.
“I just fuck mine ‘till she’s stupid”, Clyde answered immediately, with a hint of pride in his voice.
“Jesus, Clyde!” Tolkien gawped at the man next to him. Even if they were used to that type of vulgar speech, hearing it early in the morning on a Monday was a less than ideal setup. “Didn’t your mom teach you some manners or something?”
“As a matter of fact, no. She couldn’t.” Clyde looked sad for a moment. “But it’s real, you guys. Whenever Bebe starts bitching my ear off about some nonsense, I just take her somewhere private and give it to her good. By the time we’re done, she can’t even remember what it was she wanted, so it’s a win.”
“She probably just drops the issue because she knows you’re too stupid to hold any kind of deep conversation with”, stated Craig, earning a chuckle from most of the guys.
“Hey! It’s not like you’re any kind of master communicator either, Mr. Don’t-Read-The-Group-Chat!” Clyde retorted, hitting Craig - and Tweek, by association - right where it hurted.
By then, Cartman had tuned out the voices of all the other guys, the gears in his mind turning furiously. Clyde, however much of an idiot he could be, had unironically given him the solution to his most pressing problem. 
༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚
Later on, at night, the only lights on in a particular suburban street were those in the kitchen of the Cartman household.
Eric had an old cookbook open in the counter in front of him, alongside an assortment of ingredients and kitchen utensils. The food laid out seemed like your average components for making cupcakes - sugar, eggs, flour, the works -, but, hidden in the middle of it all, camouflaging itself nicely with the vanilla extract in a way that one would really need to pay attention to realize, was a bottle containing an edible aphrodisiac concentrate - the wonders of same-day delivery allowed it to be dropped off at Cartman’s doorstep right that afternoon when he bought it in the morning. 
After being done with all the other ingredients in the bowl, following the instructions in the book to a tee - Cartman could fool around with many things, but food was not one of them -, Eric grabbed the tray with the liners he had set and transferred the mixture to them. After that, he picked up that one particular bottle, turning his attention to two specific tins closest to him in the tray, lined with red cases. The bottle had instructions in the back of it - thorough information about its content, advice about the amount that was to be used and general warnings -, but the cook was having none of that, instead dumping the liquid in the two tins until he felt satisfied. In his mind, the more effect it made, the easier for him.
When that was done, he carefully put the tray into the oven and moved on to other parts of the recipe.
༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚
The next day, Eric Cartman was on a mission. Along with the usual backpack, he carried with him to school a small box that smelled faintly of vanilla. The cupcakes had turned out really dang nice, if he could say so himself, and now it was time to pacify a certain pair of lovebirds.
After going to the usual staircase, he was surprised to find that his target, the only one of those assholes he cared to see today, was not around - but it wasn’t without reason; ever since his outburst yesterday, most of the other guys had decided to leave Butters alone with his anger until the issue was resolved, so he got warned to take his sulking elsewhere because it was bringing everyone down. As soon as he found that out, Eric turned on his heels and continued through the hallways, leaving his other colleagues very confused.
Making his way to Butters’ locker, he found the blonde male unaccompanied, mumbling some nonsense as he picked up everything he needed for the upcoming classes.
“Butters! Hey, buddy.” Cartman approached him with a smile.
“Fuck off, Eric!” Butters slammed the door to his locker, startling everyone who dared to be around him.
“Woah, calm down dude, I just wanted to give you this.” Cartman opened the box in his hands and carefully picked one of the cupcakes that had the red liner, handing it to his infuriated friend. “Might make you feel a little better.”
“Oh- huh- Really? Thanks.” Butters seemed genuinely surprised that someone, no matter who, was being nice to him. He picked up the cupcake, taking a bite out of it right away and getting some of the whipped cream on the side of his mouth. “That’s awfully nice of ya. You’re a good person, ya know, Eric. UNLIKE SOMEONE I KNOW!” He said that last part too loud, facing the corridor, as if he expected you to be around so you could hear all about how much he hated you right now. Unfortunately, you were nowhere to be found - instead, he yelled that stuff right while a group of young freshman girls happened to be passing through, laughing about something. They jumped in fear, looking at him like he was a maniac, and quickened their steps to leave as soon as possible while whispering to each other.
“Yeah, yeah, Butters, I know, I’m amazing” Eric replied, absent-mindedly, setting his sights on the end of the corridor, planning his escape route. “Look, man, I gotta go, see you in class or whatever.” Not even saying a word more than the absolutely necessary, he left Butters’ side as well, this time looking for his next objective.
Luckily, he didn’t take too long to find it as well. Right as he turned the corner, you stood next to another set of lockers, next to Red and Wendy. As they talked eagerly about something, though, you kept to your silence, also dwelling on your fight with your ex-boyfriend. You just weren’t trying to make your anger everyone else’s problem was all, but the other girls knew better than to talk about it near you or ask you questions, lest a wrong word also have you snapping.
Cartman beelined to your group, and as you all saw him coming up, the happy chatter immediately turned into silence. “Hello, ladies”, he spoke, earning a raised eyebrow from you and a questionable stare from the two other girls. “Might I interest you in some cupcakes?”
Before anyone could answer, he opened the box in his hands again, carefully picking a cupcake and handing it to every member in your trio, making sure to give you the one with the red wrap. He had made sure to bring extra cupcakes just in case anyone else in the class might see him with them or ask about it, since just giving sweet treats to you and Butters and no one else would look extremely suspicious. The red liners were to separate the laced cupcakes from the others, so he wouldn’t give them to anyone else unknowingly, and among the colorful liners in the others, no one could see you and your ex getting the same color as nothing but a funny coincidence.
As he closed the box, though, you didn’t make a single movement, still staring at him with the baked good in your hands. “No need to thank me, you know. Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.
Your eyes narrowed at him. “You put your dick in this thing, didn’t you?” was the question that came out of your mouth. Red let out an “Ewwwww”.
“NO! Why would you think that?” He gasped, his eyes widening in surprise, like it was an absurd thing to even think about - even though it was definitely something he was capable of doing and everyone knew that. “Who do you think I am, some kind of psychopath?”
“Yes.” Your eyes went from him to the cupcake, turning it around in your hand, analyzing it for any obvious signs of tampering. “Farted on it? Put cum on the whipped cream? Is my mom dead on the filling?”
“No, no and NO! Christ, you do something once and all of a sudden it’s all people ever talk about.” He didn’t actually expect you to start asking so many questions - who questions free food? -, so he hadn’t taken the time to build up an actual excuse. “I just had too much batter and made a few extra to bring to class, can’t a guy just be nice anymore?”
 You waited a little bit more to see if he’d say anything, if he’d give away any evil plans. Unable to figure out anything, you took the leap of faith, getting the cupcake near your mouth and slowly taking a bite of it. The taste that your tongue could pick up - plain vanilla, whipped cream, a little bit of chocolate from the sprinkles on top - was good, but nothing out of the ordinary. Well, you weren’t expecting Cartman to be some kind of superb baker, and there wasn’t anything that struck you as odd, so you continued eating. Seeing this, the girls around you followed suit with eating theirs, since if you couldn’t find anything wrong with it they probably wouldn’t either.
“See? Pretty good, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m gonna go and give the rest away, bye.” He left before you could interrogate him any further.
“What a weirdo”, stated Red. Before you could dwell on the subject more, Wendy warned both of you about the time, and your trio started making your way to class.
༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚
For the next couple of hours, Butters felt like he was about to die.
His whole body felt hot, to the point where he was building up a slight sweat. During this time of the year and up in the mountains, this concept felt absurd, so when he asked the classmates around him to see if anyone else felt the same way, he was met with confused stares and Kenny putting the back of his hand on Butters’ forehead to check his temperature. He was warm alright, but he could tell this wasn’t a fever because this particular warmth felt more intense in the lower part of his belly, irradiating through his body.
The worst part that came with it, though, was the hard-on. It had popped up about an hour into classes, throbbing like crazy, refusing to go down and urging him to take action. He thought about asking for the hall pass to go to the bathroom and masturbate, but decided against it - because that would mean getting up in front of the whole class and standing there where everyone could see him. At this point, after so long, it all started to feel really painful, so he resorted to just curling onto himself on the chair as best as he could, waiting for the bell to ring so he could leave without drawing too much attention.
All the way across the class, you weren’t faring too well, either - just way better at hiding it. Some strands of your hair were glued to your forehead from the sweat, and you fanned yourself with an old crumbled assignment you found in the bottom of your bag. Under your table where no one could see, you pressed your thighs against each other, rubbing them together as silently as possible to create even the tiniest bit of friction to relieve yourself. As much as you did, it wasn’t nearly enough.
During this whole ordeal, you and Butters would look across the room towards each other regularly - even though you were mad at each other, you were the only person he could think about at a time like this, and vice versa. Every once in a while, your gazes would cross, both with completely panicked stares. Oh what you’d give to know what he was thinking at those times. But then, either you or him would realize the other was staring, and you’d immediately turn to the blackboard and pretend you were staring at it the whole time.
The bell ringing to announce lunchtime couldn’t have come soon enough.
“Alright class, off to lunch, we’ll-” The teacher started her usual speech to send all of you off, but before she could finish, Butters got up from his desk and bolted out of the door in extreme hurry, the speed with which he left being so intense that it knocked his whole desk back as he left and all his belongings scattered to the ground. “- Oh, I guess someone’s really into Taco Tuesday.”
As everyone got up to leave for the canteen, you thought about making a quick detour to the bathroom, maybe you could sneak in a little DJing session in one of the stalls, if you kept your quiet, just enough to get yourself through the rest of the day. Before you could make your way there, however, your girl friends made a whole group around your desk, and you had yourself cornered. If you wanted to leave anywhere, they were absolutely going to follow, so you begrudgingly walked to lunch alongside them, still trying to keep your legs as close to each other as possible. You weren’t sure if you’d even survive the rest of the day at this rate.
You hoped that lunch time and the interactions that came with it could make you distracted unlike the quiet classroom, but you were deprived of that as well. No matter how much you tried to pay attention to the conversations the girls were having around you at the table, the heat in your lower abdomen was too strong to ignore, and your thoughts always went straight back to poundtown at any given chance. More than once you had hands waved and fingers snapped near your face because someone asked you a question and you didn’t realize it. 
Also, having scanned around the room with your eyes more than a couple of times like a turret looking for a target, you couldn’t find Butters anywhere in the canteen. You wanted anything from him, even his angry looks at this point were enough to get you going - your mind got busy drawing up all those detailed scenarios where he pinned you to the table, choked you, slapped your ass, pulled your hair, all that while pounding into you violently and calling you filthy names that you never thought you’d hear from his mouth, but that made sense in your anger. 
But he wasn’t there, and you had honestly started to worry. The way he left class earlier had you wondering, who was he hanging out with that made him leave in such a hurry? Was he with some other girl? You usually trusted Butters a lot, he worshipped the ground you walked on and never gave you any reason to doubt his loyalty, but now that you had broken up, God knows what kind of shenanigans he could be up to. You certainly didn’t want to imagine the worst; not only because of the implication of betrayal on his end and the idea that he could already be loving someone else so soon, but also because it would mean he was getting a bunch of action while you couldn’t even masturbate.
“Earth to (Y/N)!” You were once again thrown out of your train of thought by Wendy Testaburger, snapping her fingers close to your ear to draw your attention once more. 
“Wait, what was it again?”, you answered, looking around with your eyes focused on the peers closest to you. All the other girls at the table were staring back, some with anger in their eyes, some with concern.
“Ugh, nevermind. I’ll text you later, since you’re too good to listen to us today.” She made a dismissing motion with her hand. “The bell’s about to ring. Let’s head back.”
As your whole group got up to leave, you looked around the considerably less crowded cafeteria one more time, hoping to catch your ex lingering around, maybe he just came late for lunch? But unfortunately, he was God knows where still. You were expecting to catch some sights of him in class again, but that was unideal - the setting there was one of silence and concentration, two things that you had no intention of keeping up with.
You didn’t have to wait until then to see him, though. As soon as your group opened the cafeteria doors, he was waiting right on the other side of it, just waiting for you to leave for the hall. Coming up from your side, he pulled on the sleeve of your blouse to draw your attention. “Canitalktoyouplease?” was the sentence that left his mouth, almost too quick and slurred for you to catch.
“Huh?”
You turned to face him and the sight was almost absurd. Butters was usually well kept, his parents weren’t going to let him get out of the house looking less than presentable, but right now he was a whole mess. His hair was all shagged up and he was panting like he had just ran a marathon. The hairs closest to his forehead were wet and some droplets of transparent liquid were around it - could be sweat, the same problem you had, or he might’ve thrown some water on his face to cool himself down (which was also a great idea). He also had his jacket tied to his waist, which was weird considering it wasn’t hot this time of the year and he had been wearing it earlier. Did he spend the whole lunch period running track?
“Can- Can I talk to you, please?” He repeated more slowly this time, gripping your arm tight and making you wince from pain. He wasn’t aware of his own strength right now. Seeing the look on your face, he quickly removed his hand from your arm, but stayed still waiting for your answer.
“She doesn’t wanna talk right now, asshole!” Before you could even say anything, Red yelled out, moving right next to you and locking her arm on yours, to show him that you weren’t alone. “And it’s almost time for class anyway. Fuck off.” 
You loved Red McArthur, you really did. That was one of your best friends right there. You didn’t regret at all having told her everything about your fight with Butters, were extremely grateful for the support she had shown you throughout, and you’d surely be glad for her intervention in any other situation. However, she was the one that should be thankful right now - thankful that the knives in the school cafeteria were dull, otherwise you’d have picked up one and stabbed her on the spot. You and your ex were still in a rift, sure, but he was the person you wanted to talk to the most right now and she was denying you that. Even if unknowingly, she was currently being the ultimate cockblocker, or pussy-blocker?
You took a deep breath, something that the other girls probably took as an attempt to dial down your anger at Butters, but that was in reality so you wouldn’t yell at your best friend in front of everyone else. “It’s alright, Red. Go on without me, we won’t take long.” You spoke as calmly as you could, waving them away with your hand and taking your arm away from hers.
As soon as you did so, Butters took you by the wrist and started to power walk in a completely different direction from everyone else, and you had a hard time matching his footsteps while trying not to bump into the groups of students everywhere. You wondered where the hell he was even taking you in such a hurry. For a while, he also seemed confused - he looked towards every door as you went, as if searching for something himself -, but then he made a decision, taking you up two sets of stairs to the third floor of the school building, where he surprised you again by pulling you inside the handicapped restroom.
Unlike the other toilets in the school, the ones reserved for handicapped people were single-user, and since there weren’t many disabled students that were willing to go all the way to the third floor to pee, this one was actually always seen to be in great condition. It was quite spacious to make it easy to maneuver wheelchairs, and also away from many of the actual occupied classrooms. Whatever it was that Butters wanted to discuss with you, he clearly didn’t want anyone else listening.
While he turned to lock the door, you took a few small steps towards the other side of the restroom, standing in the middle of it. You crossed your arms and straightened your posture, trying to look as stiff and unsympathetic as possible. Maybe it was overkill, you had agreed to be here so that already sent the message that you were at least willing to listen, but you didn’t want him to think for a second that he still had your heart on a chokehold like he did.
He took a deep breath as he turned to face you, as if trying to collect his thoughts. “Look, I know you’re mad at me and I’m mad at you and you prolly don’t wanna see me none, but I have no one else to turn to! I need your help!” He blurted out, his arms in front of him like he was ready to push you back if you were to become aggressive.
You frowned. “YOU need MY help? With what?” 
“I… I can’t say it, okay?” He was fighting with his thoughts now, knowing that he’d need to speak up, but couldn’t bring himself to. “It’s a heck of a thing and I can’t really explain it and I don’t even know if it can be explained-”
“Stop with the rambling!” You stomped your foot on the ground to alert him. “Either you tell me what this is about or I’m leaving!”
At this moment, he averted his eyes to the ground, avoiding your gaze as if that would conceal his feelings of absolute shame. His hands moved to his waist, untying his jacket and letting it fall to the floor, and the reason why he wasn’t wearing it immediately became clear - he had a noticeable tent in the front of his pants, which the sleeves of the jacket previously hung in front of, covering the view. 
As soon as you saw, it took you every little bit of restraint you had not to immediately drop to your knees, free his dick of its confinements and take it in your mouth to suck him dry. You felt your saliva building up, ready to make it as sloppy as possible too. But it would mean a complete lack of self-respect on your part to give in without at least him properly asking for it (you could faintly hear the voice of Red in your head scolding you for that), and you also needed to negotiate your own release, so you just swallowed it all back and waited as he built up the courage to continue talking.
“I tried jacking off in the stalls, watching porn on my phone, heck, even meditating to make it go away… It’s not enough. Nothing is. I NEED YOU.” He grabbed both your wrists with his hands and stared deep into your eyes as he pleaded. “I’ll do anything you want if you help me. If you never wanna see me again, I’ll leave! Forever! Just please help me! I can’t stand this anymore!”
You were far from wanting him to leave forever, not when he begged like this, looking like a hungry lost puppy. The poor man was so overwhelmed by his own arousal that he couldn’t notice the fact that you had taken a few steps towards him to close the distance between you instead of widening it. “Anything?” You murmured, to which he nodded vigorously. 
You wriggled your wrists out of his hold and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards your crotch. Your other hand quickly opened the buttons and zipper in your pants, and you pulled it down just a little, just barely halfway down your butt. The wetness between your legs had created a damp spot in your panties, and when you guided Butters’ hand to feel it, the mere brush of his hand over your extremely sensitive area was enough to make your breath hitch even through the fabric. He noticed it immediately, and you saw his eyes widen. “I believe we can help each other.”
He needed no more explanation, maybe due to fear that talking any longer would make you change your mind. So he quickly clashed his mouth onto yours, needy and desperate, wrapping both his arms around you with unusual strength - whatever it is that was driving him mad was also making him act differently than what you’re used to, but you were here for it. As you kissed him back, you felt his usually soft lips to be slightly raw - he had probably been biting them in his anxiety earlier. You didn’t have a second to dwell on it, though, because his tongue swiftly started to brush over yours, an invitation for a dance that you gladly accepted.
Still completely glued to your mouth, Butters started to take small steps, which made you walk backwards, all the way to the other side of the restroom. As your back touched the wall, you felt one of the horizontal metal grab rails under you. You shifted so more of your ass was on top of it, not completely seated (the bar was too narrow for it), but just giving you the extra support in case you needed it. The current position had you firm on your right foot, while the other hovered slightly above ground. Your legs being more open also allowed for Butters to get even closer with his hips, his erection so close to your pussy, separated only by the clothes you both wore.
In one swift motion, Butters hiked up both your blouse and your bra, not even caring about the back clasps, taking everything off and exposing your breasts to the slightly cold air of the restroom as well as to his hungry gaze. The latter wasn’t true for much long, though - he closed his eyes and dove immediately with his mouth to your left nipple, sucking on it and flicking the hardened bud with the tip of his tongue, while his right hand took care of the other breast, massaging it softly. Your nipples were already sensitive by nature, but right now they felt connected to all other nerves in your body, and the stimulation had you whimpering in pleasure.
Your lover started to alternate between one breast and the other with his mouth, giving both the same amount of love and attention - wherever his mouth wasn’t, one of his hands was sure to be, kneading the soft flesh and flicking your peaks slightly. The other hand would then be running around your chest, arms and belly, feeling your soft skin and making up for lost time. 
On your end, one of your hands grabbed hard on the metal rail below you, even if that wouldn’t do you much to make you stable. The other ran through Butters’ hair, caressing it - a type of caring behavior that almost felt out of place considering the borderline sinful thoughts you had all day and the situation you found yourself in right now, but that was doing wonders for him, since it made him even more eager to keep loving on your tits.
You could also feel his hips rutting towards plain air near you, as he tried to satiate his throbbing dick even a little bit. Not wanting to deny him any part of this experience when he was treating you so right, you moved one of your legs closer to him, putting your knee between his legs and allowing him to grind on your thigh. He took the offer immediately and responded by growling against your breast and sending some more shivers through your body with the vibrations.
The new stimulus had Butters going wild. He was getting more feral with his treatment of your body - taking your nipples between his fingers, tugging at them and twisting slightly. He started to graze your bud with his teeth, which soon turned into full-on love bites all across your nipples and breasts, the red patches not looking so jarring now that your whole skin was so flushed, but they’d certainly be a nice keepsake later.
When you started to feel that familiar tension in your muscles, the pleasure in your nipples spreading like a flame under your skin, it came as a surprise. You hadn’t ever climaxed from just him working your nipples before - hell, was that even possible? -, and it had sneaked up on you, first feeling like if lightning was gentle, an electric tingle all over your body that sparked like fireworks. Then there was no denying the well-known wave of pleasure that hit you like a tsunami, crashing your whole world around you and making your knees buckle. 
Sensing your loss of balance in front of him, Butters quickly let go of your breasts and wrapped his arms around your waist. You wouldn’t have fallen either way, catching yourself in the metal bar behind you with a firm grip, but the consideration was appreciated. As he looked at you with a worried expression and breathing through his mouth anxiously, you felt the walls of your pussy spasming again and more slick dripping in your panties. 
“You okay?” His eyes ran through your body, looking for anything that might be wrong, and coming up short. You were absolutely perfect as always.
“More than.” You purred with a smile, giving him a brief kiss. When your mouths parted ways, he tilted his head closer to yours ever so slightly, almost as if chasing your lips with his. Savoring his yearning, you pucker up your lips and make a kissing sound, before tugging at his shirt. “You’re gonna kill me like this though. Just let me feel you already.”
It was his time to smile. “Okay, honey”, he hummed, fixing his posture - and you closed your eyes happily, not having noted how much you missed him calling you pet names until now. He locked mouths with you again and his hands drifted down between you two, pulling further down the hem of your jeans and tracing your slit through the soaked panties, earning from you a sharp moan.
His mouth left yours so he could focus on ridding you of the rest of your outfit, and you held down on the grab rail with your other hand as he lifted your legs – first one, then the other so you could keep stability - to remove your shoes, pants and undergarments completely. You would’ve helped him to make the job quicker, but he seemed to be enjoying the ride now that he had you back in his embrace. Once he had fully taken everything off, he planted a quick kiss on the inside of your lifted thigh, making you shudder.
Slowly and carefully letting go of your leg, Butters took another look at your full body as you stood there naked for him. He wanted to kiss every inch of you, show you as much of his love as possible, but there was also this overpowering lust. Not wanting to spend another second more not touching you, he made quick work of his own pants and boxers while you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it somewhere and allowing his bare chest to touch yours. You were both drenched in sweat at this point, and your naked bodies basically glued together like that, but in the haze none of that mattered.
Butters lifted your left leg up again and held your thigh firmly against his hip with his right arm, while his other hand stroked his shaft slowly as he moved to position it against your entrance. You felt your cunt clench tight as the head of his cock breached your folds, and you were sure he could feel it too, as his breath hitched and his eyes fluttered when you tried to look at them. “Need me that bad, huh?”, he murmured, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I need you too, honey. Can’t be without you no more.”
With that, he thrusted into you in one swift motion - your surreal wetness making it easy for him to bottom out several inches deep inside of you, the familiar sting you felt as he stretched you being eased by how aroused you already were. The both of you moaned almost in unison at this very welcomed sensation, and in a moment of pseudo-clarity you remembered that you couldn’t be loud like this, a realization that did not seem to grace Butters as he started to push out and back into you with more fully open-mouthed moans. You quickly put one of your hands in the back of his head and push it towards the crook of your neck, where he starts to place quick but strong suckles and bites, not caring for - actually downright wanting - the marks they’d leave.
“Shh, honey” You whispered with the softest of voices, not wanting him to get discouraged, but still needing to give him a reminder. “Can’t get loud in here or they’ll catch us. Just do this for me, okay?” 
It was hard for you to heed your own warning, though - with each quick and hard slam of his hips, plus his assault on your neck, you wanted nothing more than to have him hear just how good he was doing. You settle for biting your own lip and keeping your moans in your mouth, which to him seemed to sound even hotter - as he sped up the pace of his thrusts with newfound energy, getting high on the sound of your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his dick plunging inside your weeping cunt.
The force with which his hips struck your body had you sliding up and down against the wall, your tits bouncing with the movement. His hot breath on your neck made the fine hairs on your whole body stand up, and your back arched, which made him hit that sweet spot inside of you even more perfectly now. Needing to be closer, closer, you let your hands go from the grab rails where they had settled before and wrap your arms around Butters’ neck, relying on him like your last connection to the Earth now. You were glad he had enough strength to hold you with just the lower half of your body pinned to the cold bathroom tiles while still jackhammering into you.
As Butters raised his head from your neck to take a brief look at you through his half-lidded eyes, he used a lot of self-restraint to not cum on the spot. You were a whole mess: disheveled hair, face moist with sweat, a soft reddish tint spread through your whole body, but more prominent on your cheeks, nose, and breasts. You weren’t staring back at him, eyes tight shut as the feeling of his cock inside of you distracted you from using any of your other senses. He wanted to kiss your rosy puffy lips again, but wouldn’t risk disturbing the pretty noises that came out of your throat as you tried so hard to not let out the loud moans you wanted to. “Yeah, that’s it, baby... You’re so… good to me...” He laid his head back on the crook of your neck, but didn’t go back to biting - instead, he inhaled deeply, taking all of your scent in, your faint perfume that he loved mixed with your sweat and… a hint of vanilla? “Lemme make you… feel even better…” 
His last sentence slurred into nonsense, but in the blur you barely registered it. You also didn’t even notice how he sneaked his left hand between your bodies, coating his thumb with the splattered juices around your cunt before moving it up and rubbing quick circles in your clit, increasing your pleasure in an almost overwhelming way. You felt a sharp sting in your lip and a metallic taste - in your efforts to not make any noise, you had bitten your lip so hard it broke skin. The pain, however, was quickly overshadowed by Butters’ ministrations, and you slapped one of your hands over your mouth to silence yourself, leaning with your back against the wall again.
It wasn’t like any past fuck you ever had. Everything was heightened; You heard every slap of his skin against yours and all the little sharp breaths both of you took as you tried to avoid being too loud in your pleasure, you could feel every single vein in his cock squeezing through your tight walls, and you saw whole galaxies even through your closed eyes. 
As that coil inside of your belly was getting tighter and tighter, so were your walls against Butters’ cock - and you knew that had to be catching up to him, as he started to lose the pace on his thrusts, and the muscle in his arms and legs seemed to become even more tense. “‘m- I- can’t hold much longer like this, sweets!” It seemed almost impossible for him to get the words out, having to say them through quick breaths as he got close to his release himself. “You’re just… too good…”
Then there was no warning as he let out a loud growl and his hips hit your body with one final deep slam, and you felt his dick pulsating as he filled the deepest part of you with his hot seed. The thumb in his left hand, however, still flicked your clit viciously, and so it didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, your cunt gripping his throbbing dick as the pleasure washed over your body for a second time.
As both of you dissolved into each other’s bodies, you found it in yourself to take his face in your shaky hands and press his lips to yours once more. Unlike your previous kisses of today, though, this moment was much more kind and full of tenderness, feeling exactly like the ones you shared throughout your relationship with him. You both felt loved and cared for, and while that rough fuck session took care of the needs of your physical bodies, the kiss took care of your souls.
You only dared part your mouths this time when it became necessary to breathe, and both of you sported soft smiles after you did, tired, but happy. You started using one of your hands to brush back through your fingers the multiple small strands of hair glued to his forehead, while the other caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch, resting his hands on your waist. His dick was softening, but he didn’t feel keen on pulling out just yet, relishing the closeness of your bodies like this.
“I love you, Leo.” You finally broke the ice after a couple of minutes like this, giving him a peck on the forehead, to draw his attention back to Earth.
“Geez, by now I sure hope so!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his ever present sincerity. “I love you too, (Y/N).”
As you smiled and took note of your actual environment for the first time in a while, an idea came to mind. “Wanna get away from here?” You already knew what his answer would be to this offer, but you wanted to make your intentions clear nonetheless. “We can find someplace else where we can make some real noise.”
༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚
You and Butters didn’t come back for the rest of classes, and nobody in school had an answer to where you were, either. All texts sent to you or him went unanswered for that day, and your friends had no idea what happened.
What they could certainly say they saw, though, was the pair of you arriving at school together the next morning with a pep in both your steps, chatting away and smiling as you held hands. Everyone was left speechless, and some even questioned if the last few days had even been real. 
The only person who didn’t seem confused was Eric Cartman, his nonchalant behavior earning him plenty of questioning from the other dudes the following days, but he refused to admit to anything. And why would he, anyway? You and his friend were back together, happy as could be, the sun was up in the sky, everything was right. And, if it ever stopped being that way, he had a certain tiny bottle in the back of his wardrobe to sort things out again.
Tumblr media
Dividers by @cafekitsune
193 notes · View notes
everytimewetouch-dot-mp3 · 2 months ago
Note
I am DEATHLY curious about your most recent (stunning, beautiful, awesome) omegaverse svsss au. How does shen yuan act about being an omega??? Is he bombarded with new instincts and impulses that he, the king of denial/repression, just never acts upon? I’m also really interested in how he overall reacts to binghe’s overall alpha-ness
im sorry it took me so long to get to your ask!! i wanted to wait until i had time to properly write out a reply, and holiday travel is exhausting. ANYWAYS. im almost certainly gonna have way too much to say about this lmao, im sorry in advance (update. i just finished writing. there’s…there’s a lot, im sorry lmaooo)
when sy transmigrates into essentially an OC, the system does him the courtesy of ensuring he pops into existence with some medicinal teas used as suppressants. he entered the body in a state where it was using qi to suppress inconvenient instincts and impulses. so when he first arrived, he had a few days with the knowledge that he was an omega before the instincts and impulses started hitting with a force he couldn’t ignore. my mans was like ‘oh being an omega isn’t too bad; idk why airplane made it seem like such a big deal in the book’ etc etc.
once the suppression wears off, though, poor sy is kind of taken out with a migraine just from the overload of scent information. while his body has been parsing that kind of information for who knows how long (sy surely doesn’t!! he has no idea how old this body is!!), he’s kind of overwhelmed by this new stream of information he simply never had before. he adjusts pretty quickly to the scents and pheromones aspect of being an omega (as much as he can without any other alphas or omegas around, of course).
it’s the instinct and impulse bit that’s given him trouble.
the nesting drive is both new and summarily dismissed as a quirk of this new body. it just likes to be surrounded in soft things. what’s wrong with that? everybody likes being comfortable, and even little kids feel safe from scary monsters when they’re covered in blankets. never mind that he spends 45 minutes and one near-breakdown arranging the bedding in the first inn he stays at. that’s just because he’s frustrated from all the walking he’s been doing. and no, he’s not purring once he gets it right, because people don’t do that. it’s a sigh, tyvm.
(he just tunes out the sound of purring after a while. it’s inconvenient information he’s not ready or equipped to deal with, so he simply decides it doesn’t exist.)
the omegan vocalizations give him a lot of trouble, tbh. at one point in his wandering, he wanders into a little town. after playing a very strange game of hide and seek with the local children (they are both hiding and seeking, peeking around corners to watch sy and running away as soon as he looks at them), the oldest leads him to her parents’ house. he stays with them for a few days and can’t help his pleased chirping whenever the pups—children! the children!!—bring him cool rocks or interesting plants. he tells his hosts stories and they give him warm spiced tea, and his pleased chirp startles his hosts so badly they nearly drop the pot. (most people never meet alphas or omegas, though they know how to identify them.
when he meets lbh, every bit of self control sy thought he had is tested. he’s coming off of days of being stressed, afraid, and in pain, and he’s sure to his bones that lbh is going to kill him. sy becomes jumpy, finds himself sleeping better in confined spaces (under the bed, under a pile of blankets, in the corner of the room after moving blankets/furniture to construct a little den for himself). his purring is scratchy and stuttered and near-constant whenever someone else is around (self-soothing purring sounds far less smooth than contented purring. everyone in the palace can tell the difference).
at the same time, there’s something about lbh (his scent his voice his aura of deadly control) that has sy wanting to be close. he writes it off as the protagonist halo. of course being around lbh feels both like having a knife at his throat and like coming home for the first time in years—he’s the protagonist and sy is an omega! it’s unfortunately inevitable that he’d want to be around lbh at least a little bit. when lbh gives sy a heavily scented outer robe, sy adds it to his nest and immediately shifts across the room from it, glaring and keening and wringing his hands as if it were an invader that arrived on its own.
when lbh tries to use his alpha voice on sy to get him away from sj, shen yuan is livid. he feels small and violated and deeply disrespected, and he refuses to see lbh when he has the choice, and denies him the opportunity to scent mark him when he doesn’t have the choice to stay away. lbh doesn’t use alpha voice on him again, but sy is too busy being furious and hurt to pick up the dark, burning scent of pain and regret coming from lbh. besides, if lbh were truly sorry, he’d say something instead of stinking up the place with his stupid alpha pain.
eventually, being away from lbh for so long after frequent regular contact with him starts…getting to sy. after a week or two of the silent treatment, lbh finally forces a conversation where he doesn’t really apologize but at least acknowledges that he offended his new omega. sy takes it for the peace offering it is and allows lbh to scent him again. except. sy had basically been rolling around in lbh’s alpha scent since he arrived at the palace, and after a week without it, his body was less than pleased with the thought that his alpha had abandoned him. so when he’s scented again and given a new robe for his nest, sy kind of…goes into heat a little bit.
this has never happened to him before. he doesn’t realize what’s going on until a full day in, when he’s cramping so badly he can’t get out of bed and his bedding is soaked through with all manner of fluids. sweat, slick, tears. there are a lot of tears. a lot more than he expected. and besides feeling terrified and being in a surprising amount of pain (wasn’t heat supposed to be sexy, airplane?!?!?!!), sy is weirdly lonely. there’s this ache in the back of his mind, this animal part of him yowling at the wrongness of going through this alone. his alpha is supposed to be with him. his alpha isn’t with him. his alpha doesn’t want him.
so he cries a lot, the first couple of days. can’t help it. he’s hot, he’s aching, he’s empty, he’s horny, he’s desperately lonely, and even though he’s alone, he feels absolutely humiliated by all this nonsense. being an omega is bullshit, actually. shen yuan wants a knot in his ass and a refund on this whole experience.
133 notes · View notes
storm-angel989 · 5 months ago
Note
Vox and Val don't know how to hold babies. They get handed their newborn to get some bonding in and they're all "ok what now? I just hold it? Where do I put my hands?" Until Auntie Velvette gets sick of their bullshit and physically rearranges them into a proper baby holding position because "you don't have to hold them out so far away from you, they're not contagious" and "anything they have, you're gonna catch real soon anyway"
Ok that's my contribution for today
Hi friend, 
Oh I love this idea! My biggest struggle with this one was “where do Vox and Velvette and Valentino get a baby?” (because there is no baby store, let's be real) so it took me a while to chew on what I think is an entertaining situation. I hope you enjoy it!
<3 Mandy
Valentino didn’t hold babies. Not in life. And certainly not in death. In fact, he didn’t think the idea of children had ever been discussed in his relationship with Vox and Velvette. And when his phone rang and Asmodeus' voice called him, Vox and Velvette to his restaurant in the lust ring, the last thing he was thinking about was kids. 
“What does Ozzy want with the three of us?” Velvette asked as she watched the rolling hills of fire pass by as they jumped from ring to ring. 
“Fuck if I know,” Valentino replied as he took a drink of wine. “Any idea, Voxxy?”
“No,” Vox replied without looking up from his phone.
Velvette sighed in annoyance. “Well you two fuckers are no help.”
Both ignored her. Several minutes later, the limo pulled up outside one of the biggest restaurants in all of hell. As soon as they stepped out of the limo, they were escorted back to Asmodeous’s office.
“Who's a sweet little baby? Yes you are, yes you are!” Asmodeous’s voice floated out from behind his office doors. 
“Huh, didn’t expect him to have a caretaker kink,” Vox muttered. “Hey, ow!” 
Valentino elbowed him, hard and gave him a writhing look. 
“We don’t judge,” he said sharply. “Especially not Oz.”
“Judge what? Huh?” Fizzeroi’s voice floated as the doors opened. “Come in, dumb little…”
“Alright, that’s enough Fizz, calm down, you’ll scare the baby,” Ozzy said firmly. “Come in you three.”
The V’s exchanged glances but stepped inside. Of all of the sighs they expected to greet him, Asmodeous holding a tiny pink blanket wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. Hell, for that matter, it wasn’t even on the list.
“Congraduation’s Valentino, you’re a father,” Asmodeous said as he stood up.
Vox and Velvette stared at Valentino in disbelief.
“That isn’t possible,” Valentino argued. “I always use protection, I…”
Azmedous stood up and walked across the room.
“In nineteen seventy three you made a deposit to a sperm bank. Upon your arrival in hell, our agents were supposed to destroy every single source of your DNA on Earth. It appears someone fucked up I mean…uhn…” he looked down at the baby, “made a mistake. This little girl is a product of that. And with her mother in heaven, she’s yours.”
“Wait, her mom died? Who was she?” Valentino demanded, taking a step back away from Asmodeus. 
“She did. And went to heaven. But as you know, unbaptized babies?” Asmodeous made a slashing motion across his throat. “Not welcome upstairs.  And upon this little one’s arrival, I went myself and personally destroyed the rest of the vial. But there is no mistaking, she’s yours. And by the contract you signed, she’s your responsibility, just like any other child who falls who has parents in hell. And I know you want to honor your contract.”
Asmeodous’s normally lighthearted voice dropped to a dangerously low tone. The fire that surrounded him perked up, and even Fizzeroli jumped from his shoulders. 
“Give me,” Velvette said quickly, stepping forward. 
Asmodeous shot Valentino and Vox a look, but carefully handed her the tiny pink bundle. 
“We’ll take her,” she declared firmly. “Valentino will honor his contract. Do you have a diaper bag, or formula or anything?”
Instantly, Asmodeous relaxed. From beneath the desk, he pulled out a pink bag and dropped it at Valentino’s feet. 
“I put a sleep spell on her, so she should stay down the entire way home,” he told them. “But she’s going to be hungry when she wakes up. Formula is in the bag, along with diapers and a few extra things.” 
“Great,” Velvette said as she looked at the pink bag with distaste. “We’ll get a more stylish one in time, come on boys.” With those words, Velvette turned and walked confidently out the door. 
“Do you think they have any idea of what they’re doing?” Fizzeroli muttered as he watched the retreating figures. 
Asmodous shrugged. “We’ll check on it in a few days.  Make sure Valentino truly does uphold his end of the contract.”
Back in the limo, Velvette carefully cradled the newborn to her chest.
“There should be a carseat,” she declared. “Vox, get out your phone. Make a list of the things we’re going to need to keep this thing alive.”
Valentino and Vox stared at her.
“What? It’s either keep it alive, or Valentino breaks his contract and Asmodeus…”
“Yeah, no I get that,” Vox interrupted. “But we, I really never took you for the motherly type.”
“Oh fuck you, I’m motherly,” Velvette snapped. “Now get the phone out and start making a list.” 
By the time they arrived back at the penthouse, the spare bedroom had been transformed into a workable nursery.
“It’s basic, but I can do the design later,” Velvette told them as he looked around.
In her arms, the baby began to fuss as she opened her eyes. 
“She’s probably hungry,” Velvette said to them as she turned and walked out to the kitchen. “One of you, hold her while I make a bottle.” 
Both stared at her in confusion. 
“No, I’ll hurt her,” Valentino confessed finally. “She’s so tiny.”
“Yeah, no. How do I hold it? What do I do?” Vox asked.
Velvette rolled her eyes. “You, Vox, look it up. Valentino, it came from you. So you, sit down on the couch. Vox, take notes.”
Valentino obediently sat down on the couch. Carefully, Velvette placed the baby in his arms and Valentino held the child out at arms length. 
“No, no not like that. Closer. She isn’t a disease, you won’t catch anything from her,” Velvette admonished. “And if she gets sick, we’re all getting it anyway, so buckle up buttercup.”
Velvette watched as he slowly inched his arms closer. Annoyance flooded through her. 
“No, you know what? Unbutton your shirt,” she snapped as she snatched the baby back. 
“Fuck you, no,” Valentino retorted. “That has nothing…I’m not…no!”
“Actually, she’s right, it’s called skin to skin,” Vox interrupted as he looked up from his phone, “we should all probably do it. It helps…with their vitals and stuff. Body temperature and heartbeat regulation. Helps them thrive.”
“And I’m pretty sure if this thing dies, Asmodous will consider it a violation of your contract in some way and kill you as well,” Velvette added.
Hesitantly, Valenitno undid his jacket and unbuttoned his black shirt. Carefully, Velvette positioned his hand under the little girl and laid her against his chest. To his surprise, it felt good- natural, almost. Carefully, he leaned back and settled the child comfortably against him.
“Good. Now don’t be alarmed if she cried,” Velvette warned. “She’s got to be hungry.”
As quickly as she could, she hurried off into the kitchen. As quickly as she could, she mixed a bottle and brought it back to Valentino.
“Here, you feed her, Vox,” she directed. 
“Oh hell no, it ain’t my kid,” Vox protested. 
 “We’re in this together, right? Otherwise the empire crumbles,” Velvette said firmly. 
The look on Vox’s face told Velvette she had won. She watched as he took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his shirt. 
“Fine, I’m ready,” he said reluctantly.
 Carefully, Valentino handed the baby to Vox and Velvette adjusted his arms so the baby was in the correct position. She watched as he gently pressed the bottle to her lips and to Velvette’s relief, she instantly took to it. 
“She is kind of cute,” Vox admitted as she suckled frantically. “Are you hungry, little girl? She needs a name, right?” 
“Let’s call her Reader,” Valentino suggested. “It was…well, it doesn’t matter. I’m her dad, I get to name her, right Velvette?”
“Reader,” Velvette said slowly. “Yeah. I like it.” With a swish of her skirt, she turned away. “I’m going to make some design notes for the nursery. Yell for me when she’s done eating, she’ll need to be burped.”
“Great,” Vox muttered as he looked at Valentino. “That ones on you.”
“We’ll all be doing it,” Velvette yelled over her shoulders. “She’s a member of this family, we take care of each other. Period.”
115 notes · View notes
colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago
Note
asks are open!😘 How would L lawliet react with a shy I mean very shy girlfriend shes short about 5'2. And recently joined the task force to help her boyfriend
💕L💕
Omllll yeeessss! Another Death Note request! Let’s go, I like L too and I was waiting for him! Let’s do it!
Lawliet L
Tumblr media
L was very against you trying to join the Task Force. This is definitely the most dangerous case in human history and you’re the last person he wants to risk to try solve it. He doesn’t care to risk his own life, but not yours
When L loves something or someone, it’s permanent and it’s strong, he was very against Watari joining, but he knows he needs Watari and the older man is not as included. L is a stubborn man and he won’t fold to your persistence
How did you manage to get onto the Task Force? L had no choice but to let you join, Light already seen you and his hands were tied by the members thinking a new Detective has joined. He couldn’t fly you out since it’d draw far too much suspicion. For the first time ever, the world’s best detective was stunned as he had to agree on terms he didn’t make
L supposes he doesn’t really mind having you around, it’s bad but not as bad. You’re intelligent, your skilled and you know how to handle yourself. Though, he isn’t a fan of you being apart of the Kira case for obvious reasons
Repeat it, L loves short girls so his significant other being shorter than him is like his actual dream. They are cuddle-sized and easy to keep track off. Even with how hunched he is, L is still packing quite the height and he towers you so suspect him to rest his chin on your head
“Aaah~ my favourite pillow has arrived. I am aware that I’m using your head as a headrest, you’re a suitable ‘small bean’ for the task. Why yes, I do remember what people your height are called and I’m called a ‘beanstalk’”
L is not a teaser about height, he’s a helper. You’re struggling to reach something high, he’ll get it for you. He will analyse the situation and suggest using a step next-time but at the end of the situation, he’ll help in anyway he can
L is a introvert so he understands your overall timidity. If you don’t want to be around the others, he will set up a private room for you that none of the members can access, including him if wanted. He has the money and power to do whatever the fuck he wants, and he is the spoiling type of boyfriend
Yes, I mean that L would send you money if you need it, he will rush around the headquarters to find your favourite blanket, he’s out the door the moment you mention a milkshake you’re carving. He will do stuff for you since you do so much for him, by merely being apart of his life and changing from him a glorified machine to a real human
The way you shyly approach him and Light to hand over the documentation files Watari gave to you whilst he was baking, is just so cute. Internal L is laying on the floor joyous at how adorable you behave, whilst external is politely thanking you
L isn’t built with any muscles(besides dem legs for real) but he isn’t above being protective over you, because he is. Light scared you with that one time he impersonated Kira to a horrifyingly good degree, L is gonna calmly argue with him then get into a fight
“Light. Could you please silence your strangely accurate impersonation of Kira. You’re frightening Dokusha— Hm? What reason do I have to ask of such a request? Well. She’s my partner in business and in life, she is important. Don’t do anything like that again”
L is slowly growing accustom to affection, please give him a break if he doesn’t respond or give it back. He does like it, he just isn’t trained nor knowledgeable enough in couple things. He puts research on those topics into his list so he can do better for you
Though, nobody else can do these things with L. Hold his hand, brush his hair, hug him. Nothing like that is allowed for anybody besides you and well to a degree, Watari but that’s different. You are always allowed in his private research room, most of the time, he wants you there besides him as he works
A cute weird thing L lets you do is latch onto his back. He does have a BAD back from the ten+ years of hunching but he loves feeling you clung onto him like a Koala. You are too shy to do it around the members but that won’t stop L from throwing you onto his back himself. He misses it
L keeps track of everything you like, do and more. He basically has a encyclopaedia of you and can recall every little detail. To him, knowing you like the process of scrubbing through hours worth of camera footage, is important as it shows how devoted he is to you
So tell him everything. He won’t forget any piece of info and he’ll write it down later as a needed backup, like he does for everything else non-Dokusha related. There’s two parts of his mind; Detective and Dokusha. He likes the Dokusha section a lot more
L is very loyal. Do you think he has anybody else waiting? Most women call him a freak for his looks and/or behaviour. You’re his one and only, he can’t throw you away, he just wants you sat besides him all the time. Where he can turn around and know you’re still with him
L shares his sweets with you more, as compared to somebody like Light, and you know he’ll get Watari to deliver whatever you want, whilst the other members get only what L requests for them. You are treated specially and he could care less that it makes him seem favouritistic, he is
L has a habit of mimicking you, kinda like a child. He follows you since your word is a lot more trustworthy. When you eat vegetables and meats with a smiley reaction, he is eating it too whilst waiting for your praise (Watari would struggle here, and he is a bit frustrated that his son listens to his gf, not his father
“Good morning— hm? I seem frustrated. Well… I am. Why is that? Don’t pretend like you don’t know the answer to that question, Dokusha. Yes, yes. I understand you fully. You don’t want me to die but this is my profession, and you shouldn’t be apart of this case. It’s too dangerous, you know how intense my feelings for you are”
1K notes · View notes
theteasetwrites · 2 years ago
Text
Daddy's Home | Part 1
❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 (Alexandria) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+)—oral sex (male receiving), dominant-ish Daryl, doggystyle, so much dirty talk, like one tiny spank (just a little one), mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oh yeah and DADDY KINK, language ❧ Word Count: 4.3k
❧ Summary: When Daryl comes back home from a week away, he doesn't want to sleep. He just wants you.
❧ A/N: Ok so yes I know the title is ridiculous, but like... what else was I gonna call this oneshot ok? Anyway, here's some major daddy kink. Like a lot of daddy kink. Daryl is just daddy. Sorry but he is. I can't explain it. Actually, yes I can. He's a protector, a provider, a big softie. He's a daddy, and I don't even have daddy issues but just let me have this. Goodbye I am never showing my face here again. <;3 Also I simply cannot get over how hot he is in this gif holy mother of god.
Tumblr media
The quiet was nice, late nights in Alexandria, gentle summer breeze prickling at your skin. It was nice to leave your bedroom window open through the night. Daryl hated it, always going on about how someone could climb the trellis outside your window and sneak in while you slept, but when he was gone, you’d indulge yourself in that one simple luxury.
When he told you that he was Alexandria’s newest recruiter, you knew you’d be in for some lonely nights ahead. Still, you also knew Daryl was the best man for the job—you’d seen him bring dozens of people to the prison, providing them shelter while expecting nothing in return, and then going out the next morning to do it all over again. That was when he wasn’t going out on his hunts to find food for everyone, often bringing home the biggest deer you’d ever seen, until he’d do it again next week, and bring home an even bigger one.
Yes, there was no doubt about it—Daryl knew what he was doing out there, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. Missing him. So while the quiet was, indeed, nice, you still could not get used to being alone, in this perfect little suburban townhouse, waiting. 
Your waiting became so monotonous, sitting up in your bed and reading another old Agatha Christie novel, that you decided, at length, to migrate downstairs, the living room. When Daryl would come home, you thought, you’d greet him right away. That was how much you were anticipating his arrival. 
One week was nothing, really, but it was the longest you’d been apart since knowing each other, and with the world the way it was, a lot could happen in seven days. A lot of bad, bad things. 
So you flicked on the lamp, snuggled yourself into a knitted blanket, and curled up on the sofa, book in hand as you let out a quiet huff. “Daryl…” you said to yourself, scanning your book to relocate the exact sentence where you left off. “Where are you, you big meatball.”
Your nervous jitters only worsened with the passing hour, your legs shaking involuntarily, your finger tapping on the edge of the book, your toes wiggling nonstop. All you needed was the sound of that bike, that big, stupid bike. That would ease your fretful heart. Well, what would really make you happy was seeing that man of yours, no doubt in need of a shower, but still, your man nonetheless. 
Speak of the Devil, as they say, and he doth appear.
It started out as just a distant hum, perking your ears and making your spine straighten in anticipation. Still frozen, you listened intently. A rumble, now, mechanical and getting louder with each second your heart began to beat faster. At one fateful moment, the roar of the makeshift machine was at its highest volume, and before you could even stand, a bright beam of white light shone through the blinds of the front window. 
All at once, the light and the rumble ceased, punctuated by a low huff, followed by an exasperated grunt. Heavy footsteps plodded along in a familiar pattern—you even recognized the sound of his no doubt mud-caked boots scraping against the edge of the steps leading to the front porch. You could only hope that this time, he’d take the extra precaution of removing his boots before he stepped over the threshold. 
There was a spring in your step, you wrapping the terry cloth fabric of your robe over your chest as you flitted towards the front door. Finally, you stood just a few feet back, your eyes transfixed on the shiny bronze doorknob. Inevitably, a wide grin made your cheeks swell until they almost ached, but the wait was worth it. 
When he came through the door, his head was hanging low, until he felt your presence. Lifting his gaze, he met your great big smile with a smaller one, though the movement of his body betrayed him. The door shut with a strong thud, just before he stepped forward to let his crossbow fall from his shoulder. With a soft grunt under his breath, he buried his nose in the warmth of your shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. 
For a good while, he stayed like that, only taking in the sensory relief you provided him—your faint scent of rose, your softness, your tender chuckle as your hands rubbed in vertical motions up and down his aching back. Despite the rigidity of his tired muscles, he melted into you, letting himself bask in the comfort you provided him. To hold him like this was nothing short of a ritual between you two, whenever you were apart for long enough to begin missing each other to the point of near grief. 
A man like Daryl—who’d been through so much as he had, who’d seen so much and had still so much room in his heart to give of himself to others—deserved to be held the way you held him. Few people in this world had a heart as big as him, though he did not show it in ways most people would recognize. He showed it in acts of service, in providing for people who could not provide for themselves, in the ones he loved safe. It was what you always adored about him: how he gave of himself, and expected nothing in return. 
“Hey, there, tough guy.” Daryl buried his face deeper into you, now snug in the crook of your neck, where he caught the scent of your perfume, applied much earlier in the day, yet still lingering sweetly. Though you adored how much he clung to you, you longed so much to see his face. Your hands grabbed a hold of either side of his head to lift his gaze to yours. 
As usual, his disheveled hair hung low over his forehead, obscuring one of your favorite features of his—his eyes. Between strips of tattered brown curtains, you could make out the blue-grey hue of his irises. Pushing them back, you smiled again at those deep-set pools of silvery cobalt blue. You always found their mystery to be intriguing. 
“How are you?” you asked, though you knew from the state of him that he must’ve been exhausted. He hadn’t even muttered a word, and yet the more prominent than usual bags under his eyes spoke for him. “You must be tired, hon. Let’s get you in bed.”
But as you turned towards the staircase, a firm grip pulled you back by the wrist, until you were in his arms now, laughing at his sudden burst of energy. Despite your amusement, he did not smile, only looked at you with a heavy, dark gaze, and a lick of his lips.
In your surprise, you hadn’t even noticed that both of his hands were now wrapped around each wrist, so tight that you nearly feared he’d cut off your circulation. 
Something was wrong, had to have been. You’d never seen him so… intense. Of course, Daryl could often be intense, when he was angry especially, but this wasn’t that. Anger was something you could recognize in Daryl. He’d never directed it towards you, but you knew it, and this was something different. 
“Are… are you feeling okay, sweetie?”
Silence, just that gaze holding you hostage, and a heat rising from his body that you could’ve sworn caused a bead of sweat to form on your brow. 
Now he was scaring you. 
“Daryl?” 
Your voice tempted him further. If only you knew just how much he missed you, how much he needed you. A week was too long. A week without you, a week without your touch, a week without your sweet, dulcet voice. And oh, how that voice awoke in him a terrible burning, a conflagration of deadly proportions, a fire that could only be extinguished by the one he loved. 
Entranced by his stare, you hadn’t noticed that he had you pinned against the wall, his strong, heaving chest keeping you there. 
And when he pressed himself against you, you knew. It was obvious, the way he nearly thrusted into you. 
When you realized what he wanted, you felt a wave of relief wash over you: he needed you just as much as you had needed him the past week. From the night he left, you’d not stopped thinking of him, and when you’d turn in your bed to feel for him, and he wasn’t there, the ache for him only worsened. 
There was no way in Hell, though, you were going to initiate sex when he got home. You knew he’d be tired, and a good night’s rest was what he needed before you even thought of asking him to make love to you, but now, with that wild look in his eyes, that hungry snarl in his lip, that flare in his nostrils, that beating of his heart… 
“Oh,” you sighed, your teeth biting back your lower lip as your eyes trailed up and down his body. With your hands finally free, you ran them up his arms, letting them settle on the broad, firm shoulders you loved so much. 
For just a moment, he leaned forward, forehead and tip of his nose meeting yours. With his hardening cock beginning to dig between your thighs, and his vaguely tobacco tinged musk tickling your senses, you could only utter one word. 
A soft, nearly whimpering mewl: “Daddy.”
By the time he got you to the sofa, each of you were already panting, hands moving relentlessly as you both clawed for any part of each other’s body you could get your hands on. Your mouths worked tirelessly, tongues spinning sloppily around the other’s in your haste to finally have each other again. 
When you successfully removed his leather angel-winged vest, you worked on unbuttoning his black shirt, but his hands stopped you. 
“Need your mouth,” he said. 
Leaning back on the sofa with a low grunt, he began unbuckling his belt, while you slotted yourself between his legs, hands massaging his clothed thighs, thick and flexing against your palm. 
When his cock sprang out of its confines, you’d already stripped yourself of your underwear and your robe. In only a transparent silk nightgown, your hips swayed instinctively as you watched his hand begin to stroke himself, up and down the long, thick shaft you’d come to know and love so much. 
“Come ‘ere.” His hands reached out to grab either side of your head, bringing you down to his cock. Panting lips began to drool a bead of saliva down the side of his growing erection. Knowing what he wanted, of course, you took the reddened, swelling tip into your mouth, much to his immediate relief.
“Fuck.” As your mouth slid a little lower, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His grip on your hair tightened as his head fell back on the arm of the sofa, a soft breath of your name on his lips. 
Returning to watch you, he lifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tilting his head to get a better look at you, your eyes fluttering up to meet his gaze.
“Pretty angel.” Even just the utterance of that affectionate pet name made you feel an overwhelming need to touch yourself. With your free hand, you lifted your nightgown to slot your fingers between warm, velvety folds of aching flesh. “Ya look so good like this… Suckin’ on Daddy’s cock.”
It was somewhat of a tradition now, using that phrase, though only in the context of sex, in your most private, intimate moments. It was silly, you knew it, and he knew it, too, but you both found it excruciatingly sexy all the same. It was sacred in that you’d probably die of embarrassment if anyone else besides Daryl knew of your little… kink.
But neither of you could quite help it, you adoring his strong, protective nature, and him just finding it so alluringly sinful. Guilty pleasure type of thing, with emphasis on pleasure.
And besides, his dirty talk was sex all on its own. 
As your mouth took him in progressively deeper, your fingers moved faster, increasing the friction against your sensitive spot, then slowly dipping down into the embrace of your entrance. 
Not only could he admire your mouth, and your sweet soft moans, but he could watch your fingers enter you, your hand shaking as you penetrated yourself to match the rhythm you knew he liked when he had his cock in you.
“Love when you fuck yourself like that.” He only wished he was the one doing it. “You thinkin’ of me?”
Well, it was hard not to think of him, with his cock in your mouth. 
Taking the opportunity to catch your breath, you answered him. “Yes, Daddy.”
His hands pulled you back down onto his cock, your lips forced open by his tip. “Just don’t make yourself come,” he said. “That’s for me.”
Yes, Daddy. 
Sliding over your tongue, his cock dug deeper, towards the back of your mouth. Going down on him was always a bit of a challenge, given just how big he was, but the weight of him inside you, wherever that may be, was far more rewarding. And when you got to feel that little twitch, his cock moving all on its own as it begged for release… It only made you suck harder, sliding your mouth up and down, taking him in deeper until you were nearly gagging. 
But he liked that, the sound of you struggling just a little to take all of him. Daryl was a sensitive man, yes, but he was still a man—proud of his big cock, even if he was insecure in most other areas. At least he was big, and at least he knew how to use it. 
With his hand on the back of your head, firm, but still gentle enough to let you up if you needed it, he pushed you down just a bit more, hearing your gag become more guttural, more strangled. It did not hurt, though. It only turned you on, your fingers curling inside you to tickle that special spot, and your other hand fondling his balls, tightly drawn to the underside of the base of his cock. 
For several moments, the only sounds coming from either of you were your strained groans, his slipping from between his agape lips, yours muffled by his length filling your entire mouth. Between those sounds of pleasure were the sloppy squelches of your lips soaking him with your saliva. You were always so messy when you went down on him, but how could you not be? His cock provided you no room to lick up your drool, stuffing you until your spit had nowhere else to go but down his veiny, hard length.
Of course, he’d have to tease you about it, how sloppy you were. “Messy girl,” he said, his hand gripping your hair to pull back your bangs. You fluttered your eyes open to meet his, and you were greeted by his crooked smile, with just a sliver of those shiny teeth showing. “Gettin’ Daddy all wet, huh? Nice and wet so I can fuck you good.”
Yes, Daddy.
Eyes rolling back slightly, he bucked his hips up with a jolt, your sucking beginning to tip him over the edge. Just in time, too, for your hand was getting tired of rubbing, and you needed him to finish you off.
“F-fuck, angel. Imma need ya to get that pussy ready for me.”
Whatever he wanted, you’d give him. After all, you were his good girl. Always his good girl. You couldn’t think of a time you’d ever been a bad girl for him. Daddy deserved his good girl.
Yes, you were a good girl, but you could still be… needy.
“Oh, Daddy.” Now straddling his waist, your fingers went straight for the first button on his shirt. “Want you.” He loved when you whined, just a little, and when you were so needy for him that you couldn’t quite make out a completely proper sentence. “Want your shirt off.”
He let you undo just a few buttons, exposing the hairs on his chest that drove you crazy, made you want to feel those wiry hairs between your pursed lips as you trailed your kisses all over his broad chest, made so strong and big by all the manual labor he did, and that heavy crossbow he always used. 
That very same strength pulled at your wrists, then raised you up only to lay you down, sprawled out on the other side of the couch. Now he hovered over you, the tip of his cock hanging down to be tickled by the fabric of your blush pink nightie. He always liked pink on you, matched the color of your cheeks when he talked so dirty to you, made you feel like a whore, but not in a disrespectful way. Never in a disrespectful way.
Besides, you knew you were more than that to him. You knew he loved you. Two years together, through some of the most abject pain and suffering imaginable, would do that. But in moments like this, it felt good to be just his personal whore, whom he happened to love very, very much.
Tenderness blossomed between your lips and his, where he kissed you so deeply, so sweetly. And yet, you still clawed at his shirt, your fingers begging for him to let you see his gorgeous body, after so long away from him.
“Shit,” he laughed into your mouth. Sitting up, he began to undo the rest of the buttons, then peeled off his shirt with his chest puffed up, clearly a bit cocky. When your hands shot up to grasp at his pecs, the faded ink of the tattoo above his left nipple having taunted you, he chuckled again.
“Daddy,” you laughed back, your voice a drawn out, dramaticized whine. “Come on.” 
Now you were testing him, and he held back the rest of his laughter to put on a stern, domineering face. “Hey, now. Be a good girl.”
He felt your thighs squeeze together underneath him, and your hips jolting upwards. He knew what you wanted, and he’d give it to you, but this position wasn’t quite right. 
With a breathy grunt, he grabbed you by your waist, flipping you over, then lifting your bottom until it was sticking out at just the right angle. Lifting your nightie, he licked his lips to watch you move your hips from side to side, as if to taunt him. 
“Cute little ass,” he practically cooed. Leaning over you, his chest pressed firmly to your back, he nuzzled his nose against your pillowy cheek. All the while, you felt his hand slide between your now nearly dripping wet folds. Eyes closed softly, you hummed a soft whimper at the feeling. His hands were always different from yours, so much bigger, stronger, rougher. You’d never felt a touch quite like his, and part of it was because he touched you with such tenderness, even if he tried to manhandle you a little. He was still always gentle, somehow.
In the most honeyed, silky, yet scratchy, voice, he rasped in a whisper, “Did ya miss me, angel?” 
“Yes… Daddy, I missed you so, so much.”
“Mm, I missed you, too. So much.”
Finally, you felt his tip just barely graze your hole. Not only was he torturing you, he was torturing himself, but he loved it. He needed it, otherwise he was sure his peak of pleasure would go away just as fast as it would come. With you, in this moment, he needed to prolong the desire as much as he could. He could feel it coming soon, though, that tensing in his muscles, that tingling in the pit of his stomach, that twitching that made his cock seem to bounce against your folds on its own accord. 
As he slid further into you, you felt his lips find the back of your neck, where he left little kisses the more he sank into you. It felt so good to feel him again, that fullness. It was a feeling only he could give you, his unique way of moving, his cock fitting so perfectly inside you. 
Underneath your nightgown, his hands found your breasts. Tense, strong fingers curled like claws at the soft tissue. Even in his dreams, of which he had many while he was away, he could not recreate that texture—that pillowy soft flesh swelling against his fingers. And the inside of you, the warmth and tightness that hugged his cock and accepted him with each pass, in and out. 
Soon, he leaned back to watch your body envelope his, the shiny, milky coating of your arousal making it easier to slip in and out of you, his hips thrusting in ever increasing speed.
“Daddy…” 
God, he loved being called that. Much more than he should’ve. But, then again, he’d probably find you sexy even if you were calling him “dickhead.” He really didn’t mind, as long as you were calling him something. 
“Mm, angel… Daddy’s here now, sweetheart.” He delivered a harder, stronger thrust, pulling a loud, strangled moan out from deep inside of you. “That feel good?”
“Fuck, yes!” 
As if to praise you, he delivered just a small, weak slap to your bum. That was about as hard as he was willing to spank you, given how much he hated the idea of hurting you, but he knew you liked it, and he liked it, too, the clench of your body from the slap making him jolt forward. 
“Takin’ it good… Real good.”
With one hand still squeezing your breast, the other now drawing tight circles over your clit, he made your lips tremble and your muscles tighten as you began to approach the height of pleasure. You could feel it, just on the brink of release. And he felt it, too, which was why he pulled himself out of you, flipping you over again like a ragdoll. 
You were startled when he pulled you down by your ankles, until you were closer to him. He gave his fingers a good, long lick, then let them sink into you, where his cock had left you stretched wide open and dripping wet. 
Three fingers. Three thick, strong fingers, curling up inside you, making you writhe and groan as your hands shot up to grasp at his shoulders. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his neck bulge with the strain of trying to keep himself from coming, and it only aroused you more—those muscles flexing and throbbing and burning underneath hot, sweat-dripping skin, tanned by days on end out in the sun. 
What he needed so badly was his own release, after so long of working so hard out there, risking his life for the good of Alexandria. As his forearm and biceps flexed with every push of his fingers inside of you, his chest heaved harder and harder, while you reached between your legs to find his cock. With your hand pulling on his length, and your walls clenching around his fingers as your release reached a tipping point, you both would soon be giving each other much needed relief. 
“Daddy,” you sighed, tugging harder on his cock as frustration overtook you. The closer you got to orgasm, the more you couldn’t wait any longer. “Make me come… I wanna come.”
“Ah, angel… I’m gonna come, too.”
Just moments later, you tensed and gasped and writhed and moaned, rocking your hips upward as his fingers stayed inside you, squeezed by your contracting walls. “Oh, Daddy!”
He leaned forward to lay on top of you, his sturdy weight keeping you in place as you rode out your high, soaking his fingers with your arousal. The heat of your cheek seemed to burn his lips as he kissed you there, then rubbed his button nose in delicate circles to soothe you. “Yeah… Daddy’s got ya, sweetheart.”
With your hand still tugging on him, he gasped a heavy breath, spilling out over you right then and there, his hips thrusting into your hand in desperate, sloppy motions. The orgasm was so strong that he lost his composure for a moment, his head falling into your chest as he groaned your name, over and over and over again. 
And now he freed his hand, using it to rub up and down the sides of your torso, your skin like fine silk under his worn, calloused fingers. In his hair were your hands, massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked, until he lifted his head to offer you a gentle smile. 
“Mm, I’ll never get tired of that.”
You tilted your head with a wide grin. “I didn’t think you’d want to do it tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”
He breathed a low huff before rolling over onto his side. You did the same, letting him hold you with his chest pressed firmly to your back. There wasn’t much room on that tiny couch, but you made it work. After all, even if you were in bed upstairs, you’d probably still be this close to each other, clinging for dear life, never wanting to be separated again, though you knew someday you’d have to.
“I am,” he said. “Just… I dunno, needed you, s’all.” Observant as he was, he took notice of your shivering, and reached back to grab the knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He covered the both of you, then tucked his chin into your shoulder, where it seemed to fit perfectly. “Missed ya so much, could hardly stand bein’ without you.”
Even now, after you thought you’d be used to his sweet words, he still had a way of sending those butterflies aflutter. “Well, now you’re back home.”
That sounded so good to him—back home.
~
Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!
Masterlist
Part 2 (coming soon)
2K notes · View notes
leaentries · 1 year ago
Text
out of line | nico hischier
summary: when his girl finds the ring, it doesn’t end like he had hoped.
warnings: mostly angst, swearing, this does have a happy ending (im sorry i couldnt leave my babies in dispair)
wc: 1.9k+
a/n: i’m sorry in advance, i feel like i don’t write angst that well…but i hope you enjoy regardless
the captain’s girl masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Heaviness lay in thick blankets around the room, almost like the inches of sand that covered the expanse of beach outside. Your throat felt tight at the intense gaze Nico was blazing at you. It wasn’t often the two of you fought, but it sure hurt like hell when you did.
Shuddered breaths heaved in your chest, hands pricking at your nails. It all felt like a nightmare. Except, you weren’t waking up.
Tension had been rising for days, emotions only growing as you and Nico danced around each other. You had refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room, or rather, the ring.
You loved Nico, with everything in your being, but you weren’t ready for marriage. Not yet anyway. Nico had always seemed so understanding about you choosing to wait a few more years before doing anything rash. Yet now, you weren’t so sure.
With Nico inviting you to come along for the trip during bye-week, you couldn’t have been more ecstatic. The thought of being able to spend an entire week with your boyfriend was like a breath of much needed fresh air. And it was, for the first few days.
At least until Wednesday.
❥.
Nico had gone out with some of the guys, promising to be back by 4 at the latest. Not that you minded much, getting the very nice and very expensive villa to yourself for a while was enticing.
After an hour or so in the sun, you decided to take a little break and use the giant bathtub that had been screaming your name since you had arrived. Grabbing your bag and some clothes, you made your way to the en-suite, making sure to leave the door slightly cracked, just in case Nico got home.
You turned on the faucet, making sure the water temperature was just right, before stripping yourself and sinking into the welcoming space. Closing your eyes, you sunk your body lower into the water, until it brushed against your chin with any movement. The motion of the slight waves was like a massage to your sore, sun-burnt skin.
You remained in the tub until the water ran cold and your skin began to get pruny. You pulled the drain, before carefully getting out and wrapping yourself in the closest towel. Walking over to the counter, you rummaged through your bag, trying to find your face wash, yet coming up empty handed.
You rolled your eyes, realizing you must have left it somewhere. Although, it was just a minor inconvenience, since you and Nico both used the same brand, so you weren’t worrying too much.
Squatting down to open the cabinet under the sink, you pulled out Nico’s black bag, quickly opening it to find the familiar bottle. You began to pull stuff out, before a little velvet box fell onto the tile beneath you.
Your breath caught in your throat, hoping it isn’t what you think it is. Nico knew you wanted to marry him, but not now, not during the peak of his career and your schooling. It just wasn’t what you saw for yourself. Shakily reaching down to grab the box, you stood up, scared to open it.
You almost opted to put it back, knowing that if it was an engagement ring, your relationship would never go back to the way it was. This would bring up a new wave of emotions and obstacles. It would open up a door you didn’t know if you could close.
Bracing yourself against the counter, you slowly opened the box. Gleaming back at you, in all its glory, was the most beautiful ring you could have imagined. It was the perfect ring. But this only made it hurt worse. Just picturing Nico picking out a the cut of diamond you had always wanted, or the band color, had your heart clenching with sadness.
You knew you were gonna have to talk to him about it, before he did something that neither of you would be able to walk away from unscathed.
It was the only option to save your relationship. To save Nico.
Sighing, you swiftly get dressed, placing the box back on the counter, hoping that Nico would realize you had found it. Now this may seem cowardly, but it was truly what you thought would be best. At least then, the blow would be softer than a straight out rejection.
You figured that if you prompted him to bring up the ring, the conversation would be easier. Only, he never brought it up. You could tell he knew, by the way he was so cautious with anything he did around you past 48 hours. This only caused your heartache to worsen.
Eventually, the tension came to a boiling point. Having just got home from a private dinner, you can’t help but feel as though Nico had originally planned for more to come from that picture perfect beachfront sunset. Deep down, you didn’t need to guess, you knew.
This was the night Nico was supposed to propose.
You felt conflicted as you entered the living room in silence. On one hand, you felt relieved he didn’t get down on one knee, yet on the other, you felt guilty for hoping the man you loved wouldn’t confess his undying loyalty to you. Your chest tightened with emotion.
“Can we not do this anymore?”
Nico’s voice rang out, interrupting your battling thoughts. Your brows furrowed in confusion.
“Not do what, Neeks?”
“Not sit here and pretend you didn’t find the ring, or that I wasn’t gonna propose to you.”
There it was. The bomb finally dropped. With those few words, the harsh truth of the situation became real. All of it did. No matter how hard you tried to remain in denial, or refuse to acknowledge it, reality always finds a way to bite back.
You bit your lip, contemplating on how to begin voicing your side, “Nico, what you need to understand is-”
He cut you off, “I do understand, Y/n. But you told me about your whole “plan” 2 years ago when we first got together.” His chest heaved with despair, “I thought you’d change your mind by now.”
“My plan? My plan was never going to change. You can’t be upset with me, when you were the one who assumed I’d say yes.”
Nico felt his heart shatter at your words, anger quickly began to boil through his veins, “Of course I’d assume you’d say yes,” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I mean, fuck, we live together. We do everything with each other. I’m sorry for wanting to take that step with you, truly I am.”
His sarcasm didn't get lost on you. Scoffing, you turned away from him.
“Nico, you’re not listening to me-“
“What’s there to hear?” He cut you off once more, arms flaring into the air, “That you don’t want to marry me? God forbid someone actually wants to love you.”
You spin back around, tears springing to your eyes, “You are so out of line right now, Nico.”
Yet, your shaky tone did nothing to calm him.
“How am I out of line? For loving you?”
Disbelief was written all over your face. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the intensity of it all. Nico’s harsh comments pelted through any sort of resolve you had left. Never once did you think Nico would say something like that. Especially knowing your past. It stung worse than any pain you could imagine. 
“T-That’s not fair,” You quivered, “And you know it.” 
Nico’s tense form deflated at your meek voice. The anger that once flowed through him like hot lava, has now receded, leaving nothing but spiky coldness and depression. He felt lost, plagued by the possibility of not spending the rest of his life with you.
He gingerly walked across the room, now standing directly parallel to you, “Why?” His voice was distant and cracking under the weight of his emotions, “Why won’t you marry me, schatzi?”
The use of the familiar nickname was enough to break you. Sobs wracked through your body, knees becoming shaky. Nico immediately engulfed you in his arms, cradling you against his chest like it was the last time he’d ever feel you. You felt Nico’s own tears fall freely, the hurt grasping you both. Heavy cries left Nico’s chest, only furthering your guilt. 
“I’m so sorry, Nico!” You blubbered hopelessly, “I love you so m-much, I just,” Your sentence was cut short by the rapid hiccups in your breath. 
Nico’s hands moved to gently hold your face, pulling it to meet his bloodshot eyes. His cheeks were red and puffy, wet tracks trailing down to his chin, but you knew you didn't look much better. He tried his best to calm your breathing, even through his own unsteady gasps. After a few minutes, you found yourself composed enough to continue. 
“I don’t know,” You admitted weakly, “I don’t know why I don’t want to marry you, Neeks. I’m just not ready, yet.”
Nico took a second to mull over your words. He dropped his hands from your face, leaving you distraught at the possibility of him being even more upset. He quickly turned, retreating to your shared bedroom. You felt your throat squeeze, a new wave of anxiety washing over you. 
Finding the courage to follow him, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs. 
You made your way over to him, perching on your knees in front of his legs. He lifted his head, pain written all over his handsome features. Your body physically ached at the amount of hurt swimming in his doe eyes. You cursed yourself for being the cause of it. Nico reached out to slowly like he’d spook you if he moved too quickly. He pulled you to stadle his waist, big eyes drilling into yours. 
He dropped his head in shame, “I’m sorry, schatzi.” 
You swallowed thickly, having not expected an apology.
“I should have talked to you about it first. I-I just got excited when we finally started talking about the future, I thought you had changed your mind.” 
You relaxed slightly, realizing he wasn’t gonna end things, “Don’t be sorry,” You rasped, voice hoarse from crying, “I should have made it clearer.” 
Lifting his face, you forced him to look at you, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get married eventually, Neeks. I promise, I do. Just-,” You looked at his hopeful gaze, “Just not right now.”
He nodded slightly, understanding your words. 
Your eye flickered from his eyes to his lips, before carefully placing a delicate kiss. Nico responded almost immediately, hands pulling you deeper. The kiss was slow and passionate. The days of bottled-up emotions pouring into each other's mouths. You slipped your hands into the back of his hair, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere. 
You eventually pulled away for air, chests panting. You sat for a moment, just taking in the other’s body. Nico was the first to break the silence. 
“Can you promise me something, schatzi?” Nico begged. 
You nodded quickly, “Anything.” 
“Promise you’ll marry me someday.” He swallowed, face falling into a serious expression.
You smiled slightly at his lingering worry. You kissed him once more as reassurance, before pulling away just enough to speak. 
“I promise I’ll marry you someday, Neeks.”
378 notes · View notes
libraryofgage · 1 year ago
Text
PJO Steddie Two
One
So, this part was kinda supposed to be attached to part one, but I got tired and the part was getting too long so here we are lmao
Anyway, we get a few parents revealed here, but most are still a mystery
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P
---
Eddie is on the other side of the park and wondering if he has enough time to see that fake Parthenon when he hears the unmistakable sound of a harpy's shriek. Those things have nearly eaten him enough times at camp for their bird screams to be seared into his memory. And if he's hearing the overgrown chicken, that means it's found those demigod kids before he could.
Fuck.
He whirls around just in time to see the harpy shoot above the trees, wings flared and feathers bristling, before dive-bombing whichever unlucky kid it's decided to eat first.
"Motherfucking shit bitch," Eddie mutters, taking off across the grass to where the harpy dived.
On the bright side, he managed to find the kids pretty quick; he'd only been in Athens for a few hours. On the fucked up side, he might only be able to sneak one or two kids away from the monster. Which, like, he'd love to save more of them, but he's not exactly the best fighter. He's the best runner and hider. This is why he's sent on these missions: the camp has learned that stealth and hiding usually bring more kids into safety than straight-up attacking monsters.
Eddie skirts around a tree, just barely missing the branch that threatens to whack his head off. He can hear music (something light and jumpy, soft and clear) and kids shouting in what he assumes to be fear. Just based on the sound, he's not going to be able to sneak those kids away. They're probably right in front of the harpy.
He'll have to be a distraction so they can run. "I'm gonna fucking die today," Eddie says, resigned and annoyed all at once. He reaches up and tears off the guitar pic and chain around his neck, the small triangle bursting outwards into a shield with straps that wrap around his arm.
It's ready to withstand some harpy claws by the time Eddie gracefully trips over a tree root and reflexively tucks and rolls over his shoulder. He pops up from the ground, eyes trained to the harpy, and freezes as three very important things become incredibly obvious.
One: the kids are not, in fact, shouting in fear. They're shouting with excitement, cheering at the fight happening before them. Eddie watches as a boy wearing a baseball cap punches the air and shouts, "Get 'em, Steve! Fuck the bird up!" His words are quickly followed by two girls jokingly shouting, "Language!" in return before laughing.
Two: the song playing is coming from a Bluetooth speaker on the blankets. It's a pop song. At least, it sounds like one. It's definitely old, though, and he only knows the name (Dancing in the Moonlight, by Toploader) because one of the muses' kids sang it once at a campfire night when Eddie first arrived at the camp.
Three: the most gorgeous boy Eddie has ever seen is currently beating the ever-loving shit out of the harpy with a nail bat. His mouth is pulled back into a vicious grin, his hair is somehow unaffected by the violent swings, and Eddie can somehow tell he's dragging this fight out with the harpy to blow off some steam.
"Oh! Steve!" one of the kids shouts, a girl with a beanie covering her hair. Her hat seems to be shifting just slightly, but Eddie thinks it might be a trick of the light. "Hit her to the music, like one of those movie fight scenes."
Then Eddie hears the boy, Steve, laugh. The sound is bright and clear and pierces right through Eddie's chest. "Sure thing, kiddo," Steve says, sliding back a step and twirling the bat in his hand. He tilts his head, listening to the song and catching the drums and keyboard, and then jumps right back onto the harpy.
And he does it. He starts swinging and landing hits on the harpy in time with the drums. Steve roundhouse kicks the harpy in the chest right as a guitar solo starts, his foot making contact with the first strum. Feathers are bursting in the air around Steve, brushing by him and creating brief, tiny dappled shadows over his face. The way he fights is like a dance, especially when he has music to follow and an audience to entertain.
Here's the thing: Eddie has never been one to keep his imagination in check. Why would he? Some of his best songs have been inspired by daydreams. So, when he sees the most gorgeous boy in the world beating a harpy's ass with a violent yet graceful dance, Eddie really can't be blamed for daydreaming.
The bright sun is replaced by a full moon, the park has become the shore by the lake at camp, and the audience of kids has disappeared completely. It's just him and Steve at the lake, smiling at each other and dancing, trading off lead between them. Eddie spins Steve and Steve dips Eddie. Somewhere, Dancing in the Moonlight is playing softly, nearly drowned out by their quiet laughter and whispered jokes and the waves of the lake brushing against the shore.
Oh. Oh.
That stupid prophecy. It was talking about this. The oracle predicted this moment and, apparently, considered it important enough to actually tell Eddie about it months ago. And he's spent this entire time trying to fight that obscure prophecy, trying to turn it into something bitter and filled with rage when it's just...just Steve. And Eddie doesn't know Steve yet, sure, but not even the gods could stop him from giving it a shot.
"YES!"
Eddie blinks, dragged harshly from his daydream by the kids shouting with joy as Steve brings the bat down on the harpy's head. The monster bursts into that familiar puff of smoke and mist and dust, and the kids cheer even louder.
Steve grins and stands up straight, rolling his shoulders and cockily resting the bat on his shoulder. He starts to turn toward the kids only to stop when he's facing Eddie, their eyes meeting and catching right as the song finishes playing.
----
The rush of joy and adrenaline at beating the harpy is still surging through Steve when he sees the guy his age standing a few feet away, staring at them with wide eyes. For a brief moment, Steve thinks he's a human who just happens to be able to see monsters, too. They've run into a person like that before. Then he notices the shield on the guy's arm and realizes he must be like them to some degree.
Steve blinks, his shoulders tensing slightly as he studies the other boy. Hair that definitely needs a more specialized shampoo, big brown eyes, and a whole grunge kinda vibe that Steve finds inexplicably attractive. He could spend another hour staring at the guy, but then one of the kids leaps onto his back, laughing right in his ear and nearly making him go deaf.
"That was so awesome!" Dustin shouts, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist as the other kids rush to surround him.
El grabs his free hand, smiling up at him. "Thank you for dance fighting," she says, her words almost drowned out by the other kids shouting their favorite parts and Max insisting she could have helped with the fight.
Steve grins a little wider, feeling his adrenaline drain as the relief of keeping his kids safe takes its place. "She shouldn't have interrupted our day off," he says, stubbornly keeping his eyes on the kids instead of the guy still staring at them. "C'mon, we need to keep moving."
"Where are you going?"
The guy's voice is a little rough, and Steve thinks he'd be able to pick it out from any crowd after hearing it just once. He looks over at the guy, frowning slightly. "I don't think it's your business," he says, trying to ignore the part of him that feels bad.
Thankfully, the guy doesn't seem to care. He just shrugs and takes a few steps closer. "Oh, I don't know, big boy. I think your gaggle of demigods is definitely my business," he says.
"Is that a threat?" Steve asks, really hoping it isn't. It would be a shame to punch the guy's face.
The boy blinks, pausing like he's reconsidering how his words sounded. "Shit, yeah, that did sound bad," he says, frowning and tugging on a lock of hair. He pulls it in front of his mouth, a few more seconds passing before he says, "I'm gonna start again."
The guy clears his throat and the retracts his shield. It shrinks down into a guitar pic on a chain that he latches around his neck. "Okay," he says, "Eddie Munson, son of Hermes, future rockstar, and your guide to Camp Half-Blood."
"Future rockstar?" Max asks, her voice low and sardonic.
"Hermes has kids?" Mike asks.
"I've never heard of Camp Half-Blood," Steve says, pushing forward and herding the kids to stand behind him. He stores Eddie's name for later, forcing himself to focus on the whole Potential Threat to His Kids thing.
Eddie nods like this is something he's expected. "That's fine. Lucky for you, pretty boy, I'm here to explain it all."
"Pretty boy," Steve mumbles, doing his absolute best to not think about his face heating up.
From behind him, he hears Lucas groan, "Aww, man, they're gonna be gross."
Thankfully, Eddie doesn't pay them any mind. "Camp Half-Blood is a safe haven for demigods like us. It's got a barrier around it that keeps monsters out, and we make sure everyone is trained to fight monsters and survive as adults," he explains, grinning at Steve.
"Wait, how many more of us are there?" Will asks, poking his head around Steve to look at Eddie with wide eyes.
"Oh, hundreds. The gods aren't exactly known for keeping it in their pants."
"So, we'll be safe at this camp?" Steve asks slowly.
"Safe as can be, big boy."
"Is it demigods only?" Steve asks.
Eddie nods once, flashing a grin. "Of course. We've got one Olympian who helps run the camp as, like, a punishment thing. He doesn't do much, actually. But we've also got some nymphs and Chiron. Uh, there are a few monsters in the forest, but they aren't too dangerous. They're mostly for training. The main thing is that big dangerous monsters can't get to us, and the Mist keeps humans from stumbling on the camp, too."
Honestly? It sounds way too good to be true. Steve has spent years running across this country and back, collecting the kids along the way and struggling to keep them alive. How is he only now learning about some camp that's built just for kids like them?
"The Mist?" Dustin asks, pushing around Steve. He'd be halfway to Eddie if Steve didn't grab his shirt and drag him back. "What's the Mist?"
"It's, like, this camouflage thing that keeps humans from noticing monsters and our powers," Eddie explains, vaguely sweeping his hand in the direction of a few other park-goers. "It's why nobody started screaming when you beat that harpy."
"Oh, that's what it's called," Dustin says, his grin saying he's about to grill Eddie for all his knowledge if Steve doesn't stop him.
Eddie nods and looks over the kids before settling his gaze on Steve again. "You and the kids will be safe there," he says.
"I wouldn't mind settling down," Will says, tugging on Steve's sleeve and looking up at him hopefully.
The other kids nod in agreement, and El squeezes Steve's hand. "It sounds like it'll be safe for me, too," she whispers.
Gods, is it tempting. No more running around, a place they can actually settle down and call home. He could get a full night of sleep for once instead of waking up every other hour to check their surroundings. He wouldn't need to worry about food or clothes or what to do if the kids get sick.
Steve frowns slightly, thinking for a moment before looking back at Eddie. "What happens when we get there?" he asks.
"You'll be given the grand tour by yours truly," Eddie says, playfully bowing to Steve and the kids. "Then, you'll get sorted into cabins and start training."
"How will we be sorted?" Lucas asks. He sounds genuinely curious, so Steve swallows back his retort that they certainly won't be separated if he has anything to say about it.
"By your godly parent. So, pretty boy here will probably go into the Aphrodite cabin," Eddie says, winking playfully at Steve.
"Aphrodite isn't his mother," El says, pushing closer to Steve as the other kids agree.
Eddie blinks. "Uh, who is?"
Steve hesitates, studying Eddie for a few seconds before looking at the kids. This isn't something he should reveal without a general consensus from them. What he gets is a few shrugs, an exasperated sigh from Lucas, and some nods. "My dad is Zeus," Steve says, looking back at Eddie.
"Dude," Eddie breathes, his eyes wide as though his entire world has been shaken, "How the fuck are you alive?"
And Steve can't help it. He laughs, shrugging off the nerves he'd felt earlier because he just can't bring himself to mistrust Eddie. "It's a bit of a long story," he says, "but I could tell it to you on the way to Camp Half-Blood."
The way Eddie lights up is enough to slightly calm the ever-present anxiety that hums through Steve's veins. Maybe this won't be a disaster.
Tag List (there is definitely still room, so just let me know if you'd like to be added!)
@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie
418 notes · View notes
moonswolfie · 1 year ago
Text
You get caught by the sibling
Originally I was gonna write this for Lev but then I realised that I want to write this scenario for a fair amount of haikyuu boys so here we are (I decided to do characters who's siblings appear in the anime/manga excluding the miya twins and hoshiumi, sorry hoshiumi 😔)
I wanna write more for my boi hirugami, I just KNOW everyone's gonna be simping for him once the movies come out
CW: reader is gender neutral, I use the phrase "nii chan" cuz bro/brother sounds awkward, I use a name insert, some manga spoilers
Characters featured: Lev, Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima and Hirugami
Tumblr media Tumblr media
˚ ༘ ೀLev Haiba
You were staying over at your boyfriend's place for the first time, and his family had been nothing but welcoming of you. They're all really sweet and excitable people, just like Lev himself.
That made you relieved, since you were scared his parents would be super strict or something, although that would be a little strange considering Lev's carefree behaviour.
Right now, you were sitting in his room in awkward silence. His room was surprisingly clean, you noted while looking around. (Alisa later informed you that he spent 3 hours cleaning his room before you arrived.)
"Hey, ummm..." you turned to him. He was looking off into a corner, eyes avoiding you nervously and a cute pink blush on his cheeks. He never usually acts like this. He isn't one to get nervous when asking for physical affection. He just asks you to hug him or hold his hand straight up. Or he just does it without even asking.
So that got you curious. "Yes?"
"Can I kiss you?" he asked, eyes shifting to you. He looked excited, looking at you with wide eyes and a smile, waiting for your answer.
"HUH?!" that was the thing you expected to hear the least.
"Hey, don't be so loud! I don't want anyone to come here right now..." he said, a pretty pout on his face. You just stared at him, wide eyed.
You noticed his body slightly trembling, probably from trying to contain his excitement and nervousness.
"Let's... do it." you said, clenching his blanket in your hand nervously.
At your confirmation, he made a noise of excitement, smiling widely like an innocent boy whose mom let him get candy while grocery shopping.
"Okay. Sit still..!" he instructed, awkwardly grabbing your arms. You closed your eyes, too nervous to look at him lean in. The bed made a noise as he shifted closer, and you soon felt his breath against your face. You were sure he could hear your heart beating out of your chest.
"Levochka~ I came to- Oh my!"
Your eyes opened immediately, and you spun your head around to find a surprised Alisa at the door. You didn't see it, but Lev looked equally shocked.
"THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!" Lev shouted nervously.
"Ah, I'll come back later~ Have fun!" Alisa smiled cheekily and closed the door. Your head slowly turned back to him, and he looked both embarrased and annoyed.
"Damn it, and I was so close..." he mumbled.
"...You can still do it, you know?" you said, looking down at his blanket. There was an awkward tension in the room.
"Not now that the mood is ruined!" he grabbed his head in frustration, blushing wildly.
"Later, then." you shrugged, blushing wildly yourself.
˚ ༘ ೀHinata Shoyo
You were helping Hinata with his summer break homework, solving it together in his room. He thanked you excessively when you agreed to come over, but you could never refuse an opportunity to come over to his house anyways.
His mom was really nice and even brought you two cookies. Natsu seemed excited to see you, as she always is. She even asked you to play with her, but Hinata's mom explained why you came over and she had the cutest pout on her face after.
After a while, you two were finally done with the homework, and he looked over to you, an idea flashing in his eyes before his cheeks turned pink. He was avoiding your gaze nervously. You tilted your head slightly, curious about his behaviour.
"So, ummm... since you've come over and, uhhh, helped me and everything... I-I wanted to thank you." Hinata was bright red at this point and seemed really nervous.
You hummed in question, waiting patiently for him to continue.
"W-With a kiss..." he mumbled quietly, probably too embarrased to say it louder, but you still heard him. You giggled a little at how cute he was.
"That's the best form of thank you I can possibly get." you couldn't contain your smile. You saw him tremble a little in excitement, and he scooted closer to you.
"O-Okay... I'll do it n-now..." he whispered, and you closed your eyes, knowing that he would get nervous if you kept looking at him.
You felt his lips press gently against yours, and you felt his hair brush against your forehead. You didn't kiss Hinata often yet, so every time it did happen it felt special, exciting.
"Nii-chan, let's go play with your...EW!" Natsu slid open the door to Hinata's room without warning, scrunching her little face up in disgust when she noticed what you two were doing.
"Nacchan! I-" Hinata scrambled away from you, stumbling over his words and not finishing the sentence.
"I'M TELLING MOM!" Natsu yelled, running away without closing the door. Hinata was too shocked to move, but soon swiftly got up, face scarlet red. "No, Nacchan, wait!" he ran after her.
You could hear Natsu tattling "MOM! NII-CHAN IS KISSING [NAME]!" downstairs with Hinata nervously denying it, attempting to do damage control. You could hear Hinata's mom chuckling at the scene, too.
To be fair, you were laughing right now as well. Whether it was from embarrasment or amusement, you're not sure.
˚ ༘ ೀKageyama Tobio
Kageyama randomly invited you over today, saying he was home alone. You knew his parents are often busy, but his sister was usually home with him, so this was quite the opportunity.
Knowing Kageyama, you were sure he didn't invite you over to do anything weird and simply wanted to spend time with you alone since things tend to get awkward when his family is around.
That being said, all you were doing was sitting in his room in silence. It didn't really feel uncomfortable, though. You have a feeling Kageyama simply enjoys being in your presence and doesn't feel the need to talk around you. Either that or he's just awkward.
Suddenly, you felt your hand being grabbed roughly, and you looked to your left to see Kageyama looking at you with strange determination. You haven't ever seen him make this kind of face, not even during a volleyball match.
"...Tobio?" you questioned, confused by his behaviour.
"Kiss me." he choked out, furrowing his brows.
"Uhhh, what?" you raised your eyebrows in disbelief. There's no way he just said what you think he said. Where is this even coming from?!
"I said, kiss me." Kageyama grit his teeth, face completely red now. You have a feeling he just doesn't know how to ask for a kiss properly, holding back your giggles as you let him do what he wants.
He grabbed your upper arms, and you let your eyes shut. You felt his breath on your face, lips so close to touching, when you suddenly heard a gasp.
"Tobio-chan, you little charmer~" Miwa leaned on the doorframe, smirking mischeviously. You covered your mouth with both of your hands, eyes wide as you moved away from Tobio.
"Why are you home?!" Kageyama yelled, mortified. He immediately let go of your arms.
"Work ended early. And there's no way we aren't talking about this later." Miwa seemed awfully amused. Kageyama huffed in annoyance at getting his opportunity to kiss you ruined.
"Oh, and by the way, you were doing it wrong. I'll teach you how to kiss the right way later." she said, closing the door behind her. There was complete silence in his room for a long time after that.
You turned to Kageyama, who was still red all over, gently taking his hand. "Tobio, I-"
"Don't. D-Don't say anything." he said quietly, his hand wriggling out of your gentle grip. Oh well, gazing at a flustered Kageyama is also a great activity.
But you can't help but worry about what Kageyama will do with Miwa's advice.
After his parents found out he has a partner, they incessantly kept asking him to meet you. In their own words, they wanted to "know what kind of person would fall in love with a kid like Kei". And you couldn't really blame them, knowing Tsukishima.
˚ ༘ ೀTsukishima Kei
They were pleasant to you, treating you well and even letting you stay over for dinner. You were a little surprised at how different they are from Tsukishima.
He took you to his room as soon as possible, wanting to avoid his mom questioning how you two ended up together, what he's like around you and such.
His room looked about the same as you expected, and he let you sit down on his bed, joining you.
"Your family is so nice! I wonder how they managed to get a grumpy boy like you mixed in there." you commented, smiling at him. He rolled his eyes, that being the only answer you got.
You didn't really know what else to say, so you just sat next to him in awkward silence. Then, you suddenly got an idea. A very very fun idea.
"Kei." you said, leaning forwards. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to continue. "Let's kiss." you said in an excited tone, and his lips pursed, face remaining blank.
"And why?" he asked, turning his head to you.
"Don't couples do that all the time?" you tilted your head, acting innocent. He sighed.
"...Fine." he acted like this was a pain to do, but you didn't miss the tiny sliver of a smile on his face. He was definitely excited right now. You leaned close and accidentally bumped your nose against his glasses.
"Be careful, those are- mmph..." you pressed your lips to his before he could finish his sentence, trying not to smile too hard into the kiss. This feels awesome!
His arm slowly wrapped around you, deepening the affection.
"Kei, mom says that- Ah!" you quickly broke the kiss to find Tsukishima's brother, Akiteru, standing at the door, frozen in shock.
"Well.... This is unexpected. I'm glad you two are happy together?" he said, awkward smile on his face. He slowly moved to close the door, not wanting to disrupt you further but just before he did it, Tsukishima stopped him.
"If you ever tell anyone about this, I will murder you." he said, furrowing his brows. The door opened again slightly, Akiteru wearing a worried smile on his face in the crack of the door.
"I won't, calm down. Just what do you think of me?" he assured him before shutting the door. As you sat there, processing what just happened, Tsukishima slowly brought his hands to his face, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. He groaned loudly into his hands.
"Are you okay?" you asked cautiously, blushing yourself.
"Do I look okay to you? Of course not." he pinched the bridge of his nose, face red.
You came over to your boyfriend's house for another study session this week. Exam season has been wild this year and you're eternally grateful for his help in your studies.
˚ ༘ ೀHirugami Sachiro
His family welcomed you upon your arrival as usual, the dog being especially happy to see you. The two of you are taking a break from studying just now, talking about various things in his room.
You suddenly felt the need to be close to him out of nowhere, wordlessly settling on his lap and hugging him. "Oh? Why are you hugging me?" he asked calmly.
"Do I need a reason?" you mumbled against him. "I guess not." he responded, gently placing an arm around you.
You looked up at him, not even trying to disguise the fact that you were staring at his lips. He raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly.
"Can I...?" you asked gently, not removing your gaze from his lips. He chuckled, asking "Can you what?"
He definitely knew what you were asking for, but just wanted to tease you a bit. You pouted, grumbling "I know you know what I mean." His smile became wider. "You're right, as always."
Before you could ask again, he gently pressed his lips against yours, and you hummed happily, squeezing him in your hold. His other hand gently moved to your face, holding it.
"Now what's this I see?" you were interrupted by Hirugami's older sister, standing at the door with an amused smile on her face. "You hate when my boyfriend is lovey dovey with me, but it's fine when you do it?"
Hirugami let out an annoyed sigh. "I hate your boyfriend because he's getting lovey dovey with you in front of me. I atleast do it in private."
"Jeez, okay then, you prude." his sister narrowed her eyes.
"I'm not a prude, I just prefer to not make others uncomfortable by making out with my partner in the living room." Hirugami still had a calm smile on his face, which made his sister even more annoyed.
"Whatever." his sister huffed, closing the door and walking off. When her footsteps could no longer be heard, he looked back at you with a slight frown on his face.
"Sorry about that. Where were we again?" he asked casually. It surprised you how calm he is about the whole thing, while you were turning red from the embarrasment of being caught.
"I... believe you were kissing me..." you mumbled.
"That's right." he said, cupping the side of your face.
1K notes · View notes
damiansgoodgirll · 11 months ago
Note
I just read your soft for you and I love it. If it’s okay can I request something? :)
So it’s a Damian Priest and it’s for like a plane ride and the night at the hotel and the reader is super tired from jet lag? (If you can’t that’s fine if you can thank you!)
damian priest x reader
a little angst, sorry not sorry.
i changed it a little cause i’ve never experienced jet lag, i hope you like it anyway!
Tumblr media
stay the night
“why don’t you stay the night?” you heard damian asking you softly.
“uh?”
“i asked, why don’t you stay with me tonight? in my room?” he asked again “you’re hotel is way too far from the arena and from the airport and it’s too late, we are in new orleans and i don’t like you going around late at night in a city you barely know” he suggested.
you got booked last time for the show in new orleans. in all honesty, you didn’t even want to be there. yes you were the champion but hunter promised you full two weeks of complete relax, away from the ring and from the cameras.
not even three days later, you received a call from hunter himself saying that they needed you in a match against bailey in new orleans.
you could tell that he was sorry and he kept apologising from disturbing you from your vacation so you said yes.
your manager booked you a last minute flight and lucky for you, you got the same one as the other wrestlers were in, but the hotel was way too far away and you were there all by yourself. it wasn’t the ideal, especially not knowing the city very well.
plus you hate being on planes late at night. even if it was a short flight, you felt uncomfortable with everyone around you sleeping and you not being able to close your eyes, no matter how tired you were.
damian had been a great travel buddy. he was the one next to you and you thanked whoever bought your ticket because you never got this lucky. you shared some music together and some jokes, trying to not make any noise.
“are you sure? i don’t wanna bother…” you said.
“it’s not a bother at all…i can take you to your hotel in the morning when it’s all sunny and warm…but i’ll feel better if you stayed here…at least you’re not alone…”
“are you sure?” you asked him again.
truth was you had the biggest crush on him and even if you had plenty of sleepovers together, you never shared the same hotel room and that was making you a little nervous.
“yes…you’re my best friend, it’s like your sleeping at my house, but instead we are in a fancy hotel room where we can order all the room service we want” he said and you agreed.
best friend.
it made your heart clench.
you knew someone like him wouldn’t like someone like you but in the deep of your heart you still hoped something could change.
but instead of being all moody about it, you were too tired to even keep your eyes open from the landing to the arrival at the hotel. you remembered barely of it. you knew your legs were walking for you but your mind was somewhere else.
“you awake princesa?” damian smirked when he saw you falling into the comfort of the hotel bed.
“uh?” you replied.
“clearly not…” he smiled.
“i’m so tired dam…you know how much i hate flying at night…was it really necessary? like we could have taken a bus or i could have driven…” you complained and damian smiled at your cute childish behaviour.
“okay you should definitely got to bed…i’m gonna take a quick shower and then i’m gonna joining you…those blankets look very comfortable…” he smiled before entering the bathroom and locking himself in it.
suddenly you were awake.
damian was used to sleep almost naked. you knew it because you’ve been at his house so many times but you’ve never actually slept together. it was always you in the guest room or you falling asleep on his couch.
but you were just friends right?
what could possibly go wrong?
your heart missed a a few beats when you saw him coming out of the bathroom wearing just a grey pair of sweatpants. no t-shirts. nothing at all. just his chest full of tattoos and nothing more.
you saw him like that multiple times when he was training or when he was in the ring but having him so close and so naked was making your head spinning.
“you still awake?” he asked while he got comfortable under the covers.
“uhm…yes”
“i thought you were tired” he teased.
“i was…” you whispered.
“what are you thinking about princesa?” he asked, slowly turning his head towards you.
“nothing important…”
“it has to be important if it kept you awake all the time i was showering” he laughed. how you loved his laugh.
“really…nothing important…just the match i think…”
“you nervous?”
“no…i…” how you were supposed to say that you liked him. how you were supposed to stay calm when he was only a few inches from you, half naked. how were you supposed to stay quiet when his hot breath was all over your face “i think i’m just going to sleep now…”
“in your clothes?” he asked.
and then you remembered. your suitcase was sent to the hotel you were supposed to be that night so you were left with only your small harry potter backpack, that contained anything but clothes.
“shit…”
“you can wear something of mine…” he got up and borrowed you a clean t-shirt “here…i don’t have a second pair of pants but it should be long enough to cover your - well you know it” he almost smirked.
“oh thank you…” your cheeks were red and you were feeling all hot inside. you moved quickly, entering the bathroom and changing into his clothes. the t-shirt smelled like him and all you wanted to do was cry because you wanted something like that every day, not just today. you wanted to sleep next to him every night and waking up with him between your arms - or legs - you wanted a life with him.
but you couldn’t have it.
“here you are…” he smiled when he saw you wearing his shirt. in fact it wasn’t that long and damian was amused in seeing you trying not to move so fast, otherwise your ass would be on display.
“thank you, again, for everything…” you slowly got into bed and closed your eyes.
“y/n…?” he called you.
“mh?”
“good night…” he gently kissed your head and turned off the light.
a tear slowly fell from your eyes.
his arm moving to your hip and resting over there.
what looked normal for him, looked everything for you, everything you wished for but you couldn’t have.
180 notes · View notes