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demonpoxballad · 3 years ago

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Snow Makes Everything Better

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1678

Summary: Very fluffy wintery walk in the park with Steve, which turns into a steamy makeout on the sofa again <3 no explicit stuff but still pretty sexual

Warnings: none really, just quite intense kissing and feelings lol

Masterlist

Hello! Thank you for all the likes on my other oneshots, I really appreciate it <3 I hope you enjoy this one, as you can tell I really love the snow haha - I meant to upload this earlier but I've been a bit busy with uni. I am aiming to upload every weekend but I might not make that next weekend bc it's my birthday; maybe I'll just do something really short anyway. As always if you have any suggestions or requests I'd love to hear them, I hope you enjoy!

- Liv xx

Snowy Walk

You were so excited. A walk in the park, with the guy you fancied most? Yes please.

And on top of that the weather was your favourite. Crisp white snow still lay on the ground where the constant flow of New Yorkers hadn’t yet churned it to brown slush. The sky was still full of the stuff, weighing down on the atmosphere like the softest blanket.

You were practically skipping on your way to meet Steve, unable to keep the smile off your face when you saw him standing next to the coffee cart with two paper cups in his hands. Your pace slowed as you approached him. It was nice to just watch him being, head scanning the crowds for you, jostling his knees restlessly. If you could just fashion a snow globe of the scene to carry around with you and pull out whenever you needed a serotonin boost… a few people would probably have a big problem with America’s most beloved defender being stuck in a seasonal ornament though.

You were tempted to sit down on one of the benches to carry on observing, but you didn’t want to be late, and he would probably think you a complete weirdo. Besides, you were lucky enough to be able relate with him in real life, you shouldn’t waste your time spectating on the side-lines.

“Hey,” you said softly, tapping his shoulder to grab his attention.

“Y/N! How are you? Here,” he handed you one of the coffee cups. It was comfortingly warm beneath your gloves and smelled like chocolate.

You reached up on your tiptoes and pecked his cheek, which was uncharacteristically cold. He beamed down at you like you were personally responsible for putting the stars in the sky.

You thanked him for the warm drink and started your stroll together through the park, the path meandering through frost-bitten trees. “Are you cold?” you asked. Steve was hunched over with his hand in his armpit – obviously not dressed for the weather.

He smiled bashfully, “I’m not as prepared as you.” You were bundled up like a sausage, big puffy jacket, hat, scarf and all. You stopped him to put one of your gloves on his hand holding the coffee, and grabbed the other to warm in your coat pocket, fingers intertwined.

“That’s very sweet,” he remarked.

“Yeah, well. I’m the cutest,” you teased. “Don’t act like you didn’t bring gloves just as an excuse to hold my hand.”

He made a sound that could only be described as a guffaw, feigning indignance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His fond smile betrayed him as he rubbed the back of your glove comfortingly.

For a while you both carried on sauntering through the winter wonderland scene, content to chat to each other about silly things, with comfortable silences in between. You both liked to people watch, pointing out interesting dynamics to each other and speculating about the circumstances of random passers-by’s lives:

“Look at those two dogs – that older one is so done with the other’s bullshit.”

“The little kid in the snowsuit over there looks like a baby penguin.”

“That family looks like the Vonn Trapp’s. Seriously, what’s with the matching outfits? Are they part of an outdoor theatre production?”

“What do you think people would say about us?” Steve inquired. “D’you reckon we look like a nervous first date?”

“Or a married couple?” You teased, squeezing his arm.

“Ha! I don’t know what I’d prefer.”

“I wouldn’t mind either. But I am surprised you don’t get absolutely mobbed when you’re out like this,” you remarked.

“Yeah, I guess people really don’t recognise me without the suit and everything on.” He looked uncomfortable at the thought of being fawned over like a celebrity.

“Or they just don’t expect to bump into Captain America wandering around the park.”

“True. I’m just grateful that I get to enjoy normal things like this without it being weird.” Steve’s voice lowered as he spoke to you in earnest, “it’s very easy, being like this, with you. I love it.”

You gave the sky a long, measured look. “I know. I love it too.”

His eyes felt like they were boring into your soul. It was a little overwhelming.

You casually grabbed a handful of snow from a low-lying branch and launched it at his face. Then you ran away in panic before he could retaliate, gasping like a kid and giggling at his shocked face (his mouth was hanging open like he was trying to catch flies).

Of course he was a good aim, though, and landed a massive snowball right on the back of your head. He caught up with you in a few steps and tackled you to the ground, laughing at your attempts to squirm out of his reach. His hands grabbed you and rolled you over so you were facing him, his weight pinning you to the snow. You were both breathing heavily and you could see the vapour from both of your mouths mingling in the space between you.

“You’re very cheeky.”

You knew the grin you gave him was definitely cheeky. “I know. I can make it up to you though.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged, one eyebrow raising quizzically.

You looked at him for a short while and then whispered, “Yeah”, leaning up to press your lips to his. The kiss was open-mouthed and sweet, Steve’s cold nose pressing into your cheek.

It didn’t last long though, because you shoved a fistful of snow down his collar, making him squawk like a parrot. You scrambled out of his hold and he quickly gave chase, shouting after you, “I’m gonna get you!”

“I know you will!” you yelled back.

Twenty minutes of snow-fighting later you were both exhausted (admittedly you much more than him) and soaked to the bone.

“Do you want to come back to mine? It’s only a couple of minutes away so you can warm up quick,” Steve said, eyeing your chattering teeth.

“Umm, no it’s okay, my place isn’t that far away either. Thank you though.” You just wanted to roll up like a burrito in your bed and never get out again.

He stopped walking abruptly. “I wasn’t really asking, to be honest. Seriously, come back to mine, you can have a shower and everything. I don’t want you to get sick.” He sounded very domineering. You could imagine him standing there looking after you with his hands on his hips, expression like a school teacher. You couldn’t help but oblige.

“Okay, come on then,” you called back to him, “I’m fucking freezing.” You were still trudging along in the snow and Steve jogged to catch up, muttering something under his breath about washing your mouth out with soap.

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

Back at Steve’s flat he rushed around, grabbing towels and clothes whilst you stood there like a lemon, shivering in the hallway. “Y/N?” His voice snapped you out of your aimless reverie, “come on, let’s get you warm.” He guided you towards the bathroom with his hand on the small of your back.

After explaining how the shower worked he left you to it. You locked the door behind him and undressed, your hands shaking like leaves. When you got in the shower you just stood there, letting the water land on your head and run down your body, gradually easing your trembling. Once your joints had defrosted you washed with Steve’s shower gel. It was masculine in scent, a little like pine trees.

You put on the clothes Steve had grabbed for you, feeling very cosy in his grey sweatpants and cream jumper. The arms and legs of his clothes were a bit long for you, cuffs draping over your ankles and wrists. You stepped out of the bathroom, rolling up the sleeves as you headed to the living room. Steve had already gotten changed; he was lounging on the sofa looking just as snug in a thick hoodie-and-joggers set. He looked up as you shuffled in, eyes crinkling as he took in your oversized attire.

“What?” you asked.

“You look really cute,” he replied.

“You like?” you said, giving him a spin.

“Oh, I can assure you, if I owned a polaroid camera I would take a picture and keep it on my fridge forever.” He mimed taking a photo with his hands. “Your butt looks great in my sweatpants.”

He didn’t usually flirt like this, quite so audaciously. It made you want to melt into the floor and do a merry jig at the same time.

“Even better than America’s ass?”

He chuckled breathily. “Sweetheart, I cannot even-”

“What did you just call me?”

“What? You didn’t like it?”

You moved closer to the sofa, eyeing him in faux-suspicion. “I didn’t say that.”

“I was just trying it out. Felt good to me,” he said nonchalantly, fingers reaching out to tug at your pockets.

You sank gracefully into his lap, sitting sideways with your arm over his shoulder. “Say it again,” you whispered.

His smile quivered as he leaned you over the arm of the sofa, shifting to position himself above you with his lips at the side of your head. His hands felt dangerous and foreboding, digging in at the swell of your hips. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, far too close to your ear. He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and then kissed his way along your jaw, making you shiver with every touch.

“Hmm,” you sighed, drawing your legs around his waist and tracing your hands along the wings of his shoulder blades. His breathing was throaty and wet, his kisses all taking and drawing back. Your hands were still cold, and when you sneaked them under his top he shuddered against you. His kisses became frantic and unmeasured then, thoughtlessly scattering his lips over your skin as you clutched onto the hair at the nape of his neck. “Y/N?” he gasped into your mouth.

You didn’t reply, too busy memorising the dimples at the base of his spine and the feeling of his chest pressing against yours.

He carried on, his voice raspy and feverish, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

It was all too much; he felt too good, and you lay there and thought about how you wouldn’t mind dying from too much of him.

#avengers #marvel #steve #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x female!reader #fluff #steve rogers fluff #snow #date #soft!steve rogers #soft!steve rogers/female!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader

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pumpkin-pi-e · 3 years ago

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Aizawa looks so soft and huggable? Warm and comfy bundled up in his scarf and loose hero outfit? He’s literally so squeezable and perfect? It would be sooooo relaxing being in this man’s company with how laid back he is. He’s so chill, and it instantly puts me at ease. I just wanna hug him. You aren’t concerned over how you dress; you don’t have to worry about how you act around him because he doesn’t care. You’re welcome to be yourself. Do you not feel like putting effort into your appearance today? Do you want to lounge around in nothing but your jammies and fuzzy socks? Be his guest. He’ll still tell you you’re beautiful. His vibe is nothing but laid back lofi.

Just imagine coffee, hot cocoa and marshmallows, the softest cotton socks, and heated blankets. The smell of warm pumpkin and nutmeg. That’s Aizawa. He’s familiar and comfortable, something nostalgic and homey.

Yeah his appearance is a little scruffy, but that’s what makes him so approachable and relatable. You know there wouldn’t be any judgement from him. You don’t have to worry whether your outfit is pressed and free of wrinkles, if you’re being polite and meeting social standards, making appropriate eye contact. It’s OK if you can’t or aren’t in the mood to. Shouta understands slumps better than anyone.

His unkempt hair? Perfect.

His baggy outfit? Yes, king. Slay. Comfort over fashion.

His facial scruff? That’s the stuff.

You know he’s got you if you’re down and can’t bring yourself to do physical maintenance the way you should. Aizawa knows you’d do the same for him. He’ll do it for you until you’re strong enough to do it yourself again.

Reasons to simp for Aizawa:

King of cuddles. His sleeping bag is calling your name. “C’mon, kitty. Come get warm.”

His love language is literally the cutest. Actions speak louder than words. He tells you he loves you daily. He wants to reassure you in case you have any doubts. He shuts down those voices that tell you otherwise. He doesn’t win by being louder, he beats them in persistence. For every word of negativity they spoke, he replaced it with something he admired about you, a trait he found particularly winsome. It’s always nice to hear. Those words brought a smile to his lips whenever you breathed them. He sure liked hearing them. Even amid misunderstandings, his love never neglects you. While he often reminds you of them during quiet moments on the sofa, mumbled with a kiss goodnight, he always manifested it through little things he’d do for you throughout the day.

Your clothes? Already laid out for you, neatly folded and ironed. (You didn’t know he could use one of those.)

Breakfast? After letting you wake up naturally, he’ll sit beside you on the bed and feed it to you himself. He wants to know how you slept, what you dreamt about. Yes, you have to finish your entire glass of water. You can’t just drink the fruit juice.

If you have somewhere important to be, his gentle voice rouses you from sleep. You’re either kissed into consciousness or tickled with Eskimo kisses. You may wake up to a warm furry lump on your chest, greeted by a little ‘meow.’

Stress is bad for you. In the bedroom, he never deprives you. He’s an excellent masseuse; those worn hands work magic on your muscles. A day doesn’t go by where his head isn’t nestled between your thighs. He doesn’t mind how long it takes you, Aizawa is patient. He’d never comment on it. Every second he spends showing you how loved and appreciated you are is a godsend. What has he to complain about? You aren’t made to feel bad about it. He’ll toil as long as it takes for him to spoil you.

He isn’t in any hurry.

So👏🏾many👏🏾 kisses👏🏾. Sleepy kisses, greeting kisses, parting kisses, ‘just because’ kisses. It’s the first thing he does after kicking off his shoes, the last thing he does before heading off to work. He doesn’t take them for granted. There might come a day where he isn’t able to, where he doesn’t come back to you. He adores the ones where he pulls you onto his chest. Then, he can give you his favorite ones—lazy kisses.

Your favorite? Forehead kisses.

If you cook dinner, he puts it away and washes the dishes for you. He appreciates every meal you prepare for him. If you pay for takeout, he repays you later on that night. As long as you aren’t averse to it, he feeds you.

More reasons why you should use simp for burrito bae: he’s both daddy dom supreme and your obedient pillow prince. He is neither a top nor a bottom. Aizawa doesn’t place himself in either role. He can do both depending on his mood. He’s a switch who leans either way, depending on the day. He can’t be pigeonholed. Shouta is a soft dom, wanting to make sure you’ve eaten. He provides for your needs, physically and emotionally. He checks that you’re getting enough nutrition and that you’re properly hydrated. Shouta will sit and watch you drink the recommended amount of water for your body. The hero is happy if you’ll even finish one cup. Once you’re done, his lips grace your cheek before he carries the empty glass to the sink. As a submissive, he always listens. He respects your authority. He behaves for you the way he’d have you behave for him.

There’s never any pressure to look presentable for him. Again, he legit doesn’t care if you spend the day in whatever you rolled out of bed with.

This man will pull you into his lap while he grades to hug you and have you close to him. He may be busy, but that doesn’t mean he can’t express his love through touch.

From his stoic personality, you might think he’s emotionally stunted and repressed, but he’s very in tune with them when it comes to you. He could hide them from you, but he doesn’t. He’s very open. That vulnerability frightens him at times, but it’s nice to feel connected to someone. You’ve told him how much it hurts when he shuts you out, and he hasn’t done it since. His heart will bleed out onto the floor for you. He tells you everything, confides in you for everything.

Look, if you aren’t simping for Aizawa at this point, I don’t know what I can say to convince you. You just aren’t living your best life, would-be-king.

#basically I simp over Aizawa because he’s a comfort king #spelling errors are to be ignored

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hobiiwan · 5 years ago

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I have the cutest request you'll read all week: babies often sleep better with a blanket or shirt in their crib that smells like their mother. After the shootout, The Child has trouble sleeping so y/n puts their softest sweater in the cradle with them. One night they wake up and discover Mando with The child swaddled in it on his chest because y/n's scent comforts him too.

having been with mando for quite some time now, you’ve had your fare share of blaster fights

it’s not exactly uncommon, in his line of work, to stagger back with a blaster burn wherever the beskar failed to do its job

it isn’t rare either, where you wake up some nights bathed in a thin sheen of cold sweat, chest heaving and mind buzzing with the whizzing of passing plasma bolts

you don’t admit it to anyone, nor to yourself, but it bothers you

you try to pretend it doesn’t, but you can’t hide the fact that your hands start to shake when you’re in large crowds, and you’re overly-fixated on finding the quickest exit route

you think grimly, this must be how mando feels

if the recent shootout affected you so, you can’t imagine the effects it would have on the Child

i mean seriously,, look at those ears,,

can you imagine how much more amplified the blaster fire would be

poor kid

sadly, it doesn’t come as a surprise when the Child starts having screaming fits all through the night

can you blame him?

you’re a heavier sleeper than mando, so he would try to calm down the Child before you woke

but one night, the Child just would not let up

the baby’s cries were heart-wrenching, as you dashed out of bed to console him

stumbling over to the Child’s cot, you see that mando has him held awkwardly over a shoulder, patting his back

you can hear mando desperately shushing the baby, but that only causes the cries to intensify

poor guy, he’s trying

you reach to lift the Child into your arms and hold him closely, bouncing as you pace back and forth

“go on,” you murmur with a sleepy smile to the clearly-exhausted bounty hunter, “i can handle ‘em.”

you end up falling asleep in the pilot chair with the Child cradled to your chest

but we don’t talk about that

the next time the Child screams its lungs out is after a particularly tasking job, and neither you nor mando have the energy to spend hours rocking the baby to sleep

as much as you both love him

with a heavy sigh, you roll out of bed, ignoring mando’s grunts of protests

but you beat him to the door

lol loser

he manages to get a peek of you peeling your sweater over your head, which piques his interest for just a second, before he’s falling dead asleep

you didn’t think it would work; shot in the dark, honestly (literally)

but it’s nearly alarming how quickly the Child’s cries die down when you swaddle him in the worn out sweater

you peep his green, button nose twitching in recognition, before he closes those all-seeing eyes and drifts to sleep

“it was that easy,,,,” you groan at the fact that all those sleepless nights could have been avoided this easily

you leave the sweater in his cot from then on, and you find that he sleeps much longer through the night

which means you finally get a minute of solid sleep

one night, you stir, only to find mando isn’t in his make-do bed

furrowing your eyebrows, you’re cautious to peek out into the darkness, scanning for signs of life

stopping in your tracks, you’re confused when your searching gaze lands on the mandalorian, in the exact same spot you had been nearly a month ago

curled up on the pilot’s chair with the child in his arms

he’s got his helmet tucked close to the Child, who has your sweater loosely splayed over his tiny body

your heart warms at the sight, and had you not been so tired, would have taken a holo

but you don’t really have to– the image is forever burned into your memory

you don’t mention it to mando the next morning, nor the next week

he doesn’t mention it either, when he finds one of your sweaters bundled next to his pillow

not saying that the soft scent of you engulfing his senses comforts him,,,,

but it comforts him

case closed

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hushedhands · 4 years ago

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Challenge 80

Thank you for voting @thespianbooks!! Since so much is happening in the world out there, I promise that absolutely nothing happens in this challenge! It’s just Maxerica and brand new baby Addy hanging out together, about a week before the beginning of the Postscript.

“Then you twist it under.”

“Twist under…” Maxon’s tongue poked out of his lips as he focused hard. “Like that?”

“Yes.” America smiled over at him. She was feeding Addy, now a full four days old, from a bottle that she’d pumped earlier in the afternoon.

“And so then this part… it goes like that?”

“Tuck it under the middle part.” America corrected him.

“Blast.” Maxon had taken to using pseudo-swears in front of the baby so she wouldn’t ‘learn any bad habits from him’. It always made America giggle. “I can’t understand how you do this so quickly. You hands are a blur!” Maxon complained.

He’d caught America braiding her hair into pigtails to keep it out of her face, and more importantly out of baby Addy’s face, during their frequent feeding times together. It was a skill Maxon had never needed to acquire before, but now that he had a daughter, Maxon wanted to learn to braid so that he could fix her hair when she had enough of it to braid.

“I was slow at first, too!” America promised. “Kenna taught me to braid when I was six. Give your hands time to learn how to do it and eventually you’ll be able to braid anything you want without giving it a second thought.”

Maxon considered the three ribbons laid out before him as though studying a recovered text from a long-dead language. “Hmm…”

Baby Addy finished her bottle and gurgled contentedly.

“Here. Why don’t you take a break and burp the little dairy princess?” America offered.

Maxon’s face burst into an enormous grin as he pulled the baby, dressed in her cutest, softest little onesie, from America’s arms and onto his chest. He let her rest her little head on his shoulder while he looked around for a baby towel. He found one strung on a chair nearby and leaned way over to grab it without having to get up, then he repositioned the baby so that she was on the towel just in case she spat up any milk when she burped.

Then he started firmly patting her back.

Free from her bundle of joy, America stood and stretched, rubbing a hand over her soft belly out of habit. It looked like one of Gerad’s deflated soccer balls now, but it was still big enough that Astra occasionally asked America to please double-check that there weren’t any more babies inside.

America looked around the room at the unbelievable mess that had taken over the family room. Maxon had asked the maids to only come when they were summoned instead of doing their usual daily cleaning rounds. It meant the new little royal family had lots of time to themselves, but the result was that a tornado of baby clothes, towels, bags of unused diapers, bottle cleaners, breast pumps, and soft toys had wrecked their once tidy home. And America knew, without a doubt, that this was what heaven looked like.

Even though the baby wasn’t even a week old, and she definitely couldn’t respond socially to anything America or Maxon did to her, she already seemed to have such a personality. She grunted and cooed and waved her little fists in the air, and made perfect eye contact with whoever was feeding her. America could swim in those grey eyes forever.

“Hungry, Maxon?” America asked, snapping out of her dazed thoughts about her daughter when her stomach growled.

“Sure, I could eat. Would you call down to the kitchens?”

“Way ahead of you.” America was already halfway to the telephone in Maxon’s bedroom. The Palace chef had been feeding the two of them very well since the Addy had been born. They always ate well, so maybe she was reading too much into it, but America felt spoiled by the Palace staff who were all so excited to have a brand new royal baby in residence.

“What do you think we shall feast on tonight, little girl?” Maxon asked the princess on his chest. “Perhaps something warm and cozy, like soup?��

Baby Addy burped and Maxon grinned, “Of course, your order is for milk, milk, and more milk. Don’t worry my little love, we’ve got you covered.”

“We?” America asked, listening to the telephone ring. “Don’t overpromise, Maxon, I can only make so much milk at a time.”

Maxon hid Addy’s little ears so she wouldn’t overhear America’s words and become afraid that there might be a milk famine.

That was one thing America wasn’t struggling with, much to her relief. She’d heard horror stories from women at her clinics that sometimes milk was slow to come, or when it finally did, their babies wouldn’t latch on and drink it. Each clinic’s formula cupboards, which were kept stocked for those women, literally saved the lives of their babies. But Addy and America were off to a great start, milk-wise, and America was endlessly grateful for their luck.

After alerting the kitchens that the King and Queen were ready for dinner, America rejoined her husband on the sofa and ran a hand through his golden hair, dragging her fingernails along his scalp. “Is she ready for a nap?”

“Hmm…” Maxon lowered the baby from his shoulder, now that she was done burping, and examined her little face. Wide, grey eyes blinked up at him. “I think she just wants to be held for a little bit.”

“Oh goodness, if only she had someone who wanted to hold her.” America smirked sarcastically. She and Maxon had a large rotation of baby-holders who would come take care of the baby for five or six hours at a time to allow America plenty of time to rest while she recovered from giving birth, and Maxon plenty of time to rest from taking care of his recovering wife and infant daughter.

Magda was always first, claiming her right as Gramma, and then May would show up next. They also had the help of Kenna as Addy’s official royal nanny, though she wouldn’t become a full-time employee of the Palace until America was back at work. Mary and Paige each spent chunks of their free time in the evenings or hours of their weekends doting on the new baby, refusing to accept payment for their time even though their presence meant America and Maxon got an extra nap. All in all, America felt incredibly loved and supported, and her thoughts often turned to the women in Illéa who did this without the help of husbands or family or chefs or maids. She’d do it for Addy, there was no question, but America couldn’t even properly imagine how hard it would be.

“Here, I need to keep practicing.” Maxon returned their soft, chubby little angel to America so that he could return to braiding the ribbons. America peppered Addy’s belly with kisses and was rewarded with a squirm: their new baby girl was ticklish.

America leant her head on Maxon’s shoulder, peering lazily down at his work, holding Addy securely across her lap.

It was not possible for life to get any better than this.

After dinner that night, America was feeling energetic enough to wrap everyone up in warm clothes and take a stroll through the gardens. Maxon held baby Addy, swaddled in a tremendously fluffy blanket, all the way down stairs with one of his hands firmly gripping the railing just in case. America was glad to know that he had somewhere else to put his worry now, and she tiptoed behind them with both hands stuffed into her coat pocket, living life dangerously and thrilled at not getting caught by her husband.

They kept a stroller by the door for their many garden walks. It was the only place they’d gone since entering their suite after introducing Addy to the Kingdom a few days before. Now, on a dark, wintery December night, everything in the gardens was beautiful. Only the winter flowers were in bloom, but somehow the earth still smelled rich and alive.

“Addy’s going to be so surprised when spring comes.” America smiled.

Maxon paused pushing Addy in her stroller to kiss America on the lips and then said, “She won’t know what’s hit her. The flowers blooming. The bees buzzing.”

“And this summer, when we start taking her to the swimming pool…” America grinned.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t wait to see her first swimming suit. Astra’s have these cute little skirts attached. Will hers have a little skirt?” Maxon asked eagerly.

“Yes, absolutely.”

Maxon chuckled, “I always thought my life was going to be spent in war rooms, making tough decisions about troop movements and scarce resources. Now all I’m doing is imagining baby clothes and learning to braid.”

“Mmm.” America smiled happily down at their little bird, now snoozing peacefully on her ride. “Let’s never, ever go back to work.”

“Oh? You think we can just barricade ourselves in the Palace forever?”

“Yes.”

“And what happens when the people choose a new royal family?”

“They can take the second floor.”

“And when the chefs refuse to feed us any longer because we’re no longer King and Queen?”

America made an overly dramatic shocked face at Maxon, “They would never do such a thing. They love Addy and me too much.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Maxon allowed with a grin. “In that case, we must start our lives as ordinary citizens at once.”

“Ordinary citizens claiming squatter’s rights in a palace.” America corrected him.

“Yes, of course.” he agreed. “What’s the first item on your agenda, non-queen America?”

“As Squatter Mer, I declare that we must choose a normal name for Adrienne, something distinct and ordinary.”

“Well, as Squatter Max, I must voice my concerns.”

“Oh?”

“I believe she will have to choose her normal name for herself, just as we chose our names when we started playing castaways.” Maxon reminded America.

“But it will be years before she can name herself. What can we call our Squatter Daughter in the mean time?”

“Squatter Daughter. That’s her name.” he declared.

“Oh no. Adrienne, I am so sorry for your terrible play name my love.” America giggled down at her sleeping baby.

Addy was a good sport, though. She played along and let them call her “Squatter Daughter” until the air grew too chilly on her nose and she cried out in complaint. The game ended and the royal family returned to their suite for the night.

Maxon and America made a nest of blankets in Maxon’s bed and relaxed there while Addy rested cozily in a bassinet within reach. When America fell asleep that night, she was curled up on her husband’s chest listening to it vibrate as he hummed a lullaby for their baby. When Maxon woke up a few hours later to Addy’s hungry crying, he drifted back off listening to America hum songs while she fed the baby. Just like that, Maxon and America took turns singing each other to sleep all night.

#laws of inheritance #challenge #DemocracyHands

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solastia · 5 years ago

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The Dragon’s Lair | 4

- A Date With A Dragon -

Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7,300

Notes: A little warning, there is some smut! Nothing crazy but yeah... also, if you think Namjoon’s outfit sounds familiar, that’s because it should. It’s one of my favorite looks of his. I can’t remember when it was but it’s an airport look, from when they were going to LA I believe. I wanna say 2016? Maybe 2017? When he did the whole sexy professor with the big black glasses thing. I nearly died when I saw him that day.

For the past couple of weeks, Namjoon has been acting strange. Not so much with you - he still treated you with just as much affection as usual. However, he’s been staying at the hybrid shelter longer every day and coming home exhausted. On top of that were the hushed phone calls you’d hear him trying to have out on the porch, forgetting that the window was usually open a little bit. You couldn’t hear much more than a word here or there, but thankfully it had been enough for you to understand he was talking to Heechul.

You hadn’t much worried about things like there being someone else, but something was clearly up and it did worry you that Namjoon felt like he had to keep something from you.

Today you found yourself sitting on the porch steps, the winter air biting even through your woolen jacket and beanie. Trying to wait outside in the middle of January probably wasn’t your smartest idea, but sitting around inside had been driving you crazy.

You watched the road leading up to your farmhouse, waiting for Namjoon to come home. He was even later than usual today. Before these past weeks, he always came riding home around three. Then it became six. Tonight, it was nearly nine and was pitch black outside. The thought of him riding his bike alone in the middle of the night made your stomach clench with anxiety.

Just when you were about to call up Heechul, the familiar sounds of Namjoon’s bike pedaling up the driveway heralded his return. You released the breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as the tension slowly left your shoulders. He pulled up towards the house, his mouth turning down in surprise and worry when he spotted you huddling on the ice-coated porch.

“Baby, what are you doing sitting out here? You’re gonna get sick,” he rumbled, rushing over to pick you up and carry you into the house.

“Was waiting for you. I got worried,” you grunt through chattering teeth.

His frown deepens and he looks slightly guilty.

“Sorry, Star. Got caught up with work.”

He was avoiding your eyes by focusing on getting you warm. He pulled off your jacket, boots, and hat, replacing them with a large chenille blanket you kept on the couch. He got up and threw a couple more logs into the fireplace before going to the kitchen and pushing the button in the electric water kettle you kept full for him.

You kept doing your best to catch his eyes but he was being unusually crafty about avoiding looking at you. Your skin slowly began to warm in your little blanket bundle as you watched him make hot cocoa from packets.

"Namjoon," you begin softly. "Is there something that you need to tell me? I'm just worried. Did I maybe do something to upset you?"

"No!" he sputters, turning quickly to face you. He nearly knocked over one of the mugs in his haste. "You didn't do anything wrong! Damn, is that what it seems like? I just...wanted to do something nice. I didn't mean to worry you or make you upset!"

Now you were confused. Your nose scrunches as he joins you on the couch with two steaming mugs of cocoa.

"Something nice?"

Namjoon sighs and hands you a mug. "I've been working in the cafe after classes to make extra money. I wanted to...well, I wanted to take you on a real date that I paid for myself."

You reach out of your blanket cocoon to coo and cup the blushing dragon's cheek.

"Oh, sweetheart. You are the cutest. I was so worried that something was wrong. You don't have to do anything special like that for me. I'm happiest when it's just you and me lounging around the house."

"I know," he sighs with a little smile, "but you're my girlfriend now, and you've taken me to plenty of places that are like a date. I want to do the same for you. I want to take you out somewhere and show off that you picked me. Hyung has been helping me make some plans and letting me work to make the money. I was hoping to surprise you with it, but I don't want you to worry."

You smile fondly and set your mug on the side table, taking the one from Namjoon’s hand and doing the same. Then you pull him towards you by his grey oversized sweater and kiss him softly.

When you pull back, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. His eyes are still closed and his lips are tilted slightly as he rumbles, relishing your touch.

“You are amazing, and I would love to go on a date with you.”

His eyes fly open and he pins you with a hopeful and slightly vulnerable look.

“Yeah?” You nod and he basically glows from happiness. “I still want to surprise you with the plans at least, but Heechul hyung has been helping so I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it, sweetheart,” you reassure him as you you poke a dimple, unable to help yourself.

He snorts and cuddles in closer, lending his own naturally high body heat to warm you more.

“So when are we having this special date?” you ask as you bury your face into his neck. He strokes his cheek against your hair a few times, humming in thought.

"This weekend.”

“Sounds perfect. But no more staying late. I miss you.”

Namjoon blushes shyly and makes a pleased rumbled as he clutches you closer.

“I missed you too.”

The days leading to the weekend went agonizingly slow. Namjoon had stayed true to his word and you were happy to hear him riding home at exactly three, bounding into the house to excitedly tell you about his day and demand his cuddles with you and the remains of his hoard of Ryan plushies (somehow the number of them on the bed had been dwindling, not that you were complaining much. That left more room for you to sleep without landing on top of a bunch of them and killing your back).

Saturday morning had you feeling increasingly frustrated as you still had no idea what the plan for the day was. It was simply going by as normal, with Namjoon not even hinting at this being the chosen day. You knew he was aware you were waiting for him to say something as each anxious sigh you let out was met with a teasing grin from him and nothing more. You finally just went to your office to work out of frustration, hoping he’d let you know with enough time for you to pick a good outfit and get ready.

Hours went by with you buried in your work. You’d noticed Namjoon come and curl up in the chair with a book for a while like he often did. It was cute how he seemed perfectly content to leave you to your work as long as he could just sit in here with you. He’d left about a half hour ago after receiving a phone call from Heechul, so you assumed they were still conspiring together.

You had just finished putting together a final design for your latest commission when your phone beeped with a message.

Joonie🐉: Time to get ready beautiful ;)

You grin and save your work real quick before rushing to your room. You’d had a few outfits in mind for the day, but you hadn’t quite settled on anything yet. You wished you knew where he was taking you so you could know what would be appropriate. You didn’t see Namjoon on your way through the hall, but one of the guest room doors was closed, so you assumed he was getting ready in there.

You hum to yourself as you enter your room, closing the door quietly before heading to your closet. Honestly, this whole room was a closet these days, as it had been so long since you’d last slept in here.

You shuffle through your closet and pull a couple things out, walking towards the bed with the intention of laying them out so you could inspect them. However, you notice a pile of boxes and bags from a very expensive name brand waiting for you on top of the bed. You blink in surprise, mumbling to yourself that Heechul must pay Namjoon very well for him to be able to afford all this. You open the packages slowly and pull out the items carefully. You were worried about ruining something since you’ve really really handled such obviously expensive clothes.

The style of everything itself was fairly simple, things you’d choose yourself, but the quality of the fabrics was far superior to anything you’d ever worn. There was a thick knitted sweater dress in ivory that looked like it would be so comfortable, like walking around in a blanket. To compliment it was a long grey cardigan that was pretty much the softest thing you’d ever felt in your life. There were also some thick woolen tights and slouchy grey boots to pull it all together. This outfit was definitely one that you could tell Namjoon had put a lot of thought into - choosing something was that you’d look pretty in while still making sure you’d be warm and cozy. In one of the smaller bags, you found a couple of bracelets and a pair of dangling earrings that somehow matched the silver and gold of your scale necklace that you never took off except to sleep. Your entire wardrobe was beginning to lean towards things that complimented the necklace, so matching accessories were an exciting find.

Namjoon and Heechul must have spent a fortune just on these clothes alone, and you didn’t even know what else was planned for the night.

You shook your head but got ready quickly, knowing Namjoon was probably anxiously waiting for you by now. The outfit felt like you were going to be walking around wrapped by a snuggly blanket and you silently praised Namjoon’s good taste. You touched up your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before sliding on the bracelets and the earrings. All of it, combined with the ever-present beauty of the scale necklace, turned you into the very epitome of winter elegance.

You grinned and strode excitedly from your room, eager to show Namjoon. He was on the couch when you entered the living room and stood up quickly when you sauntered closer with a smile. His jaw dropped and you blushed and took the chance to look him over.

Namjoon’s outfit screamed casual yet fashionable, like a sexy professor. You could tell that everything was just as high end as yours. Skintight black jeans topped with a white button-up, a patterned black and grey blazer, and black loafers. He’d even worn his black-framed glasses that made his golden eyes the focus of his face and styled his silver hair so it parted to one side, with a little lock of hair that couldn’t be tamed falling onto his forehead. His fingers and wrists were adorned with many silver and platinum accessories, bringing out the natural ethereal coloring of his silver and gold nails.

“You look beautiful,” you blurted. His surprised eyes shot back to your face before smiling shyly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he does sometimes when he’s embarrassed.

“I was going to say the same,” he chuckled quietly, before reaching out to grasp your hand.

He pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning in to rub his cheek across yours. You’d learned a while ago (from Heechul, because Namjoon had been too embarrassed to admit it) that this was actually his way of scenting you. He did it often before the two of you left the house together, and sometimes just because.

The sounds of someone driving up to the house interrupted his scenting session, and he reluctantly pulled away, but not before planting a quick kiss on your lips.

“Your chariot awaits, madame.”

You quirk an eyebrow at his cheesiness and grab your purse before you let him lead you outside and lock the door. You pause at the appearance of the sleek black car waiting for you there.

“Namjoon, this is Kakao Taxi Black! They are super expensive,” you hiss quietly, so the driver wouldn’t hear as you’re escorted to the car.

Namjoon smirks, “I know, but just consider the fact that I wanted to get a limo or something. I knew you would throw a bigger fit about that, so this was second choice. Actually, the real second choice was having Soonyoung drive us, but Jihoon caught that cold that’s been going around the shelter.”

You sigh and let him help you into the back of the car, gulping when you see the prices labeled up front. The driver waits until the two of you buckle up before driving away, apparently having already received his instructions. Namjoon grabs your hand and cuddles closer, nuzzling into your hair.

“So, can I know where we’re going now?” you whisper, not wanting the driver to listen in.

“You know that musical you wanted to see?”

“The one that’s been sold out for like four months? Yeah.”

“Hyung knows a guy and got us first row seats.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet Namjoon’s smug grin.

“Shut up.”

“It’s true! And then we’re going to dinner at The Lounge.”

“The Lounge?! What the hell, Kim Namjoon?! How much does Heechul actually pay you?”

He laughs and kisses the side of your head.

“Mmm, enough. He also had some of my old scales laying around he hadn’t gotten a chance to use, and apparently, they sell well in certain circles.”

For fucks sake, the adorable thing had literally sold body parts to afford this way too expensive date. Granted, him selling old shed scales (no matter that they resembled the most magnificent jewels you’d ever seen) was the same as some weirdo buying your nail clippings, but still.

“Are you happy? Or is it too much?”

The wary tone in Namjoon’s voice as he asked you had you sneaking up a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s incredible. I’ve never been wined and dined before.”

He sighs and you can literally feel the tension leak from his body.

When the driver pulls up to the theater, an employee actually meets you at the car and leads you to your seats. They weren’t just front row, but directly in the center. You’d be able to see and hear everything. As the two of you settle into your seats, another worker comes by with glasses of champagne. You accept the glass, as does Namjoon, and take a sip before turning to the dragon sitting there with a smug cloud above his head as he watches you.

“Did Heechul’s guy make us VIP or something? I don’t remember anything about audience members getting champagne.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Heechul knows lots of people.”

You shake your head. “Uh huh.”

You decide to just relax and enjoy instead of questioning everything. You lean back into your seat and grasp Namjoon’s free hand with yours as the show begins. This musical was one that you’d been waiting to see for a while since it was an original. It was probably a little cliche, but you loved romances so you didn’t care.

It was a story about a man that wants to court the local beauty, but her condition is to catch the town’s most notorious stray cat. This condition was given to countless others who all failed because the cat was vicious and could outrun everyone. Instead of rushing through and trying to catch the cat through violent means like the many before him, he instead went painstakingly slow and took his time to obtain the cat’s trust. Every morning, he would set out food and drink for the cat while he talked to it, and every night he would sing at the beauty’s window. Finally, he woke up one morning to find the cat sleeping in his bed. The cat suddenly changed and revealed that it had been the beauty the entire time, and he had won her over with his kindness. You weren’t ashamed to say that you were a sobbing mess by the time the wedding scene came around. Luckily, Namjoon had the foresight to pack several handkerchiefs.

Two hours and four glasses of champagne later, the show finally ends. You sigh in happiness, so thrilled that you actually got to see it live. You’d thought for sure that the only chance you’d get would be to wait until it hit a movie theater or got put on DVD.

“Did you like it?” Namjoon asks as he helps you out of your seat.

You know you must look a mess and you were happy you’d thought to use waterproof makeup. That still wouldn’t help the puffy eyes or red-tinged nose from your crying.

“It was great! Thank you so much, sweetheart,” you beam and place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He frowns and leans his face closer to yours to claim a proper kiss. You giggle and do what he silently asks, kissing his lips with a loud smack.

He loops your arm through his and leads you to the exit, where the taxi is back and waiting. The drive to the restaurant is quiet, both of you perfectly content to just sit close and bask in each other’s presence.

The driver pulls up to Park Hyatt Seoul Hotel and Namjoon helps you out, leading you through the elegant lobby to the elevator. The restaurant is on the 24th floor, something you already knew even before he pushed the button that led you up there. This was a popular restaurant for celebrations (like proposals, but you knew that wasn’t what you were here for today). There is a waitress literally by the elevator doors waiting to lead you to your table. Namjoon had chosen one of the few more isolated spots in place and he even takes the chair that places his back to the window, letting you get the city view from the ceiling to floor windows that surrounded the place. There is wine waiting already, and you vow to have no more than two glasses as you were still feeling good from the champagne at the show. Namjoon has also apparently preordered the food, something that would have annoyed you with any other date, but not with Namjoon who knew you so well.

Conversation flowed as easily as it always did with the two of you. You both speak of work, and plans for the farm in spring (you were still determined to buy goats. Maybe some chickens). Namjoon’s plate was filled with meat and noodles as usual, while yours had a bit more variety as it was a few different Korean dishes with a western flair. You politely refrained from saying anything out loud about Namjoon’s long legs playing footsie with you under the table, not wanting to embarrass the man. It was hard though, because he was so damn cute.

By the end of the meal you were full and getting close to tipsy, though not quite. There was a pleasant warmness in the pit of your belly and your muscles felt loose. The entire evening, while definitely cliche, but wonderful and Namjoon’s eagerness to please you made everything a hundred times better. Honestly, you were just as happy with takeout and Netflix and didn’t need all this fancy stuff, but you knew it was just Namjoon trying to show you how much he cares.

Namjoon rushes over to pull out your chair and help you up, then takes your purse and cardigan from the waitress before helping you into that too. Any excuse he could come up with to touch you, it seemed.

The two of you left the restaurant hand in hand, but he paused just before the elevators. He cleared his throat and his face was slowly growing a blush that spread from his cheeks to his neck.

“So...uh. There’s another part of this date if you want it. Hyung said it would be a good idea just in case. Uh...so...” Namjoon fidgets and chews on his lip. You reach up and tug it from his teeth which makes him finally look at you.

“What is it, sweetheart?” you ask softly.

“So, uh. This is a hotel. Obviously. Hyung knows a guy and got us the best room here. There’s, like, a hot tub. And those alcohol bottles. Cable...” he trails off, staring at the elevator again.

You smirk gently, knowing where this is going. “And a bed.”

“Yeah...” he coughs. “Probably one of those too.”

“So you’re ready to...”

“I mean...we don’t have to. We could just hang out and use the hot tub. Eat all the snacks and drink all the booze since it’s paid for,” he shrugs, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his ears were bright red, you’d believe his charade of indifference.

“Take me to our room, Joonie.”

His eyes finally meet yours, and the golden depths of them are glimmering somehow, the pupils dilating by the mere suggestion.

“Yeah? Okay. Yeah, let’s go,” he says huskily, gently grasping your hand and pulling you into the elevator.

He doesn’t let go once, just pushes the button for the floor below the restaurant and keeps holding on. You weren’t sure, but you thought maybe the skin of his hand was raising in temperature, as his palm was practically scalding and making your own sweat.

Once the doors ding and open, he continues gently leading you towards a room that was so massive apparently only one existed on this floor. Namjoon opens the door and gestures you to go inside, finally letting your hand free. You take the chance to wipe it on your jacket, though you hated defiling the beautiful cardigan. Both of you kick off your shoes and take off your jackets. Namjoon grabs it all and places them in the little closet next to the door. Finally, you pause and look around the room.

It was beautiful. Mostly white, with some obviously upscale furniture of various types and materials scattered around. You were obviously in what was basically a living room, as there were a huge couch and a massive television as the main centerpieces. You walk a little bit and peek around the corner, spotting a big feathery looking bed covered in white and gold (although the bed at home was bigger and comfier, you were sure. You hadn’t skimped on Namjoon’s bed at all). The bathroom was on the other side and you sauntered over to peek in there, as well. This too was massive, with a walk-in shower the size of your bedroom, a big jacuzzi in one corner that was surrounded by rose petals and candles, and two fluffy looking robes hanging with their names embroidered on them.

Namjoon comes up behind you and lays his chin on your shoulder, pulling you closer by your waist.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s lovely, sweetheart! I’ve only seen places like this in movies.”

He hums and kisses your neck. That action seemed to remind your body of why you were here in the first place, as the feeling of his lips sent tingles straight through your entire body.

“You wanna use the hot tub?” he murmurs, his fingers tightening their grip on your hips.

“Yeah,” you answer breathily. “Don’t have a suit, though.”

He audibly gulps. “That’s okay. I don’t either.”

Namjoon releases you and walks towards the jacuzzi. He looks around for the button to turn it on, pressing it and fiddling with the heat setting. Instantly, the jets begin their magic. There’s a bottle that he picks up near the tub. It’s glass and the liquid inside is a shimmering amethyst hue. It looks like something you’d find in some witches hut right before they turn you into a toad. Namjoon catches you eyeing it as he pours a little bit in. As the oils swirl in the water and release the most captivating scent you’ve ever smelled in your life, he grins sheepishly.

“A present from Heechul hyung.”

Because of course it was. And if you knew him at all, you knew what it was probably meant for.

But any worries you had about magically enhanced possibly aphrodisiac water we erased from your mind as Namjoon turned to face you. He pulled off his glasses and set them on the counter, the clink as they hit the porcelain practically echoing through the room as your senses seemed to enhance as your heart raced.

He untucked his shirt, his eyes now locked on yours, as if he was daring you to look away. Somehow, your usually shy and fumbling dragon was nowhere to be seen at this moment. You swallowed as you followed the path of his fingers to the top button of his shirt, exhaling shakily as it popped out. The next few buttons followed and you can see bits of his tanned chest peeking through. It wasn’t unusual to see it, as he often went around the house either shirtless or with a tank top that was so open he might as well have been. However, you were seeing it now with the knowledge that you would now get to touch it, kiss it, and much more.

Finally, he pulled the entire shirt off and tossed it onto the counter. His hands flew to his belt, moving much faster than they had with the shirt. You watched as he unbuckled it quickly and pulled it free from the pant loops, tossing it onto the floor without a care. Then his fingers went to the button on his jeans and you swore the breath left your body. His fingers were slightly shaky as he popped it open and slowly drew his zipper down. He somehow drew the tight jeans down his hips with ease and kicked them away, and finally, you were faced with Namjoon in all of his glory.

God, he was beautiful.

His glorious chest tapered into a small waist then down to his long, thick-thighed legs. And his skin! It was normally a beautiful tan, but somehow at this moment it was nearly as golden as his eyes.

You licked your lips and let your gaze fall to the one spot they’d tried to avoid and you whimpered. He was probably not the biggest in the world, but certainly the biggest you’d ever seen in person. And he was already so hard, the tip of his pretty cock flush and wet. You wanted him in your mouth.

Suddenly, your clothes that had once felt like being dressed in a cloud were unbearably itchy, and you wanted them off yesterday.

You tug on your dress and tights, growing frustrated when your hands won’t cooperate. Namjoon strides closer to help and the moment his hands touch you, you embarrass yourself when a needy moan escapes. You’re so worked up just from wanting him so much, and he’s so damn pretty, and it’s been so long...

Namjoon’s nostrils flare when you finally tug your stockings off, and his low rumble is growing louder by the second.

“You’re wet,” he sighs throatily. “Smell so good.”

He takes a few shaky breaths before he grabs the bottom of your dress and lifts it off, somehow not shredding anything in his haste. Your under things meet the same fate and you’re suddenly standing in front of him bare as can be. His eyes travel down your body, his mouth open and lightly panting.

“Beautiful,” he groans. Then he picks you up and nuzzles into your neck as he carries you to the jacuzzi.

He manages to slide you in without bumping too much, then sits next to you. Honestly, you hadn’t thought you’d get as far as the hot tub with the way that you felt, but apparently, he had other ideas.

After he gets settled safely into his spot he sighs and picks you up yet again, this time placing you on his lap with his chest to your back. He kisses up and down your neck while he winds his arms around you. You can feel him hot and heavy against your lower back, twitching every time you let a moan escape.

“Wanted you for so long,” he pants into your hair. “Is this okay?”

His hand is traveling down your stomach and you can guess where he’s going, so you nod, too focused on trying to breathe right to answer.

When those fingers that you loved so much finally reach your center, you sigh and sink into his lap, laying your head against his shoulder. He tilts your head slightly and captures your lips in a kiss that conveyed every bit of the hunger he’d been holding at bay. It’s awkward at that angle, but you didn’t care, happily letting his do as he pleased.

His hand was still at work below the water, finally reaching its destination and set his fingers to exploring. He pulled his lips away from yours and moved down, biting and sucking at the point where neck met shoulder as his fingers played below. After a few moments, he finally found your bud and focused on that, rubbing it slow and firmly, all the while mumbling against your neck as he sucked marks onto it that would take a long time to fade.

“Joon, please. Just get in me already.”

He groaned, his hips bucking a little against your back.

“Not yet. Gotta...hyung said to make you cum first.”

“Oh, fuck...don’t talk about Heechul right now,” you moan as he switches the position of his fingers, obviously having had an idea. His thumb is still firmly working on rubbing circles into your clit, but his other fingers are working on trying to enter your slick hole.

Suddenly, what he’d left unspoken got through your brain and you grabbed his wrist.

“Sweetheart, are you a virgin?”

He buries his head into the small of your back and sighs.

“Yeah. Not really much of a chance for a dragon to mess around, you know. I never felt right letting anyone else get that close and most of the other hybrids were too scared to try.”

“But you’re alright now?”

“Yeah. You’re my mate. My dragon is content, I’m overjoyed. I may not have done this really before, but I did lots of research and I will do my best to make you happy.”

He was so earnest and cute, which felt like a weird thing to think when you could feel his hard dick digging into your back.

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything flawlessly. I’m happy enough just being with you. We’ll figure everything else out along the way, alright?”

He nods and kisses you softly. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Namjoon,” you sigh happily as he pulls you closer and rumbles against your neck.

Slowly, he starts rocking you against him, using your body to bring some relief to his no doubt aching cock. His hand is back to work beneath the water and he plunges one thick finger into you slowly. You gasp and try to help him by circling your hips a little.

You faintly hear the sound of your phone ringing, which seems weird considering how late in the evening it was. You try your best to filter it out and focus on Namjoon’s finger moving in and out of you as he suckles yet another mark into your neck.

However, it rings again.

Namjoon growls, his thumb on your clit rubbing faster to try to get you where he wanted you.

The phone rang again.

You moan out of frustration as the climax that had once felt so close drifted further from you as you begin to worry about why someone would call you so many times in a row this late at night. Visions of your home being burnt down, Soonyoung or Jihoonie in a fiery car accident, a number of other horrible scenarios until finally you sigh and place a hand on Namjoon’s arm to stop him.

“Baby, no. They can wait,” Namjoon pouts, nipping at your shoulder.

“You know as well as I do that no one calls us this late. If they are calling now and not stopping, there’s something wrong.”

He sighs and pulls his finger out of you slowly while you whimper at the loss, suddenly feeling unbearably empty as you flutter around nothing.

“You’re right. Go answer,” he says with what is the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

You turn around and kiss the tip of his nose before jumping out and pulling on the robe. Namjoon is right behind you, dripping water everywhere before he pulls his on too. His eyes are still dark and hungry, and he holds onto the back of the robe like he can’t bear to let you stray too far.

You stride into the living room quickly, Namjoon still at your heels and pull your phone from your purse. You take a quick look at the ID of the still ringing phone and are surprised to find it’s Heechul, especially when you know he’s aware of your plans today.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank fuck. Listen, I’m so sorry, I know tonight was a big deal but we have a bit of an emergency.” Heechul frantically explains.

“That’s okay. What’s up?”

“So, we have volunteers and workers all assigned to different sections of the shelter, because as much as I would like to, I can’t be everywhere at once. I try my best to give everyone personalized care, but sometimes I can’t stretch myself that far and I have to put faith in the people that work for me. Well, it backfired this time. Turns out the person I had in charge of the young reptiles was a fucking flake. They didn’t change out the proper bulbs or get the ones that need it ready for hibernation, among other things.”

“Oh my God, that’s horrible!”

“Yeah, well, they are now fired and I’m thinking about pressing charges, but for now we have a serious emergency. It’s Mark.”

“Mark? What’s wrong with him?”

“The worker had reported that he had the flu, and we all just assumed he had the cold that was going around and didn’t think to look into her claims. Turns out he’s practically dying. He hasn’t had proper lighting or heat in months, and she didn’t feed him enough to get him through his hibernation. He doesn’t actually hibernate like a bear or anything, just sleeps a lot and doesn’t get around to eating or drinking. I’m checking his supplies right now, but I seriously doubt she even bothered to give him the vitamins he needs as a lizard hybrid either.”

“That poor baby,” you can’t help tearing up, and you feel Namjoon wrap you into a soothing back hug. He can obviously hear everything perfectly.

“Listen, he’s actually been crying for you. I tried to console him and on my own after we got him a little more stabilized and hydrated, but he won’t stop crying for you. I know it’s not a good night, but could you come in? Maybe bring Namjoon too?”

“Of course! We’ll be there as soon as we can!”

You can hear Heechul breath a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, guys. Once Mark is in the clear, I’ll be sure to make Namjoon stay at home for a while to make it up to you. See you.”

“See you soon.”

You hang up and turn to your dragon with an apologetic smile.

“Is this okay? I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Honestly, the fact that you’re willing to run off to a whelp that has nothing to do with you in the middle of the night is just another reason to love you. You have such a big heart.”

You smile and reach up to kiss him. He pecks you then flips you around and pats your butt as he pushes you towards your clothing.

“Besides,” he adds as he tugs up his pants. “I honestly wasn’t that sure about this room in the first place. It doesn’t smell like us and didn’t feel safe. This was hyung’s idea because he said all women like this stuff.”

You slipped your dress back on then looked at him over your shoulder.

“I don’t need all this, Joonie. I’m happy with just you.”

He smiles lovingly while he buttons his shirt up.

“I know. The first time we make love, I want it to be in our nest at home. Where I can protect you and it smells like happiness and love. This place is nice but it’s hard to concentrate when all I smell is bleach.”

You giggle at his cute crinkled nose and reach out for a hug once you’re both dressed.

“Still, I loved tonight and I can’t wait for the rest now that I’ve had a taste.”

His nostrils flare as he stares down at you and whines.

“Not fair. I’m trying to make this thing go down and you can’t say stuff like that.”

You laugh fully as you pull on your cardigan and shoes. Namjoon sighs and slips his shoes back on and grabs your purse, carrying it under his armpit like a pro. His other hand is occupied calling the taxi again and letting them know he needed them again. Thankfully, they had one not too far away and they were sending it over.

The two went down the elevator hand in hand and walked through the lobby without a care for how disheveled they must look. They only had to wait outside for the taxi for a couple of minutes, and Namjoon quickly ushered you into it in an effort to keep you from getting too cold.

The ride to the shelter was tense as you both worried over the komodo dragon hybrid you’d both sorta bonded with. You remembered little details now that hadn’t seemed so out of place at the time, like how thin he was or how sharp his cheekbones were. How erratic his breathing had been. You’d just brushed it off as how he was supposed to be as a lizard hybrid since you didn’t know any better. Now you felt horrible because you should have seen it and known something was wrong, then you could have helped the poor baby sooner.

Once you arrived at the shelter, Namjoon threw fare to the driver and the two of you grabbed the hands of each other and literally ran into the shelter, with you practically screeching Heechul’s name.

He finally came out of one of the numerous hallways, for once looking haggard himself.

“Thank God you guys are here. He won’t stop crying for Y/N.”

Your heart clenched as you thought of the hybrid you’d only met a few times. Had he really bonded with you that much already?

Heechul led you through the hall into the reptile wing, and you immediately noticed the difference in lighting to the other rooms you’d been in. Heechul notices your gaze and nods with a frown.

“Those lights are UV lights. They provide heat and sunlight for our reptiles and they are supposed to be changed every six months. The worker we had was marking them changed when they weren’t. Mark and a few others have been going without proper heating, light, and nutrition for months. I feel like kicking my own ass as well as hers. I should have paid more attention,” Heechul explains furiously.

You shake your head and reach out to squeeze his shoulder.

“You already do so much, Heechul. You can’t do everything. Magic whatever or not.”

He sighs and nods. “I know. Doesn’t make me feel less like shit.”

He leads you up to a door that has drawings taped all over it.

“Mark is in here,” he says with a frown.

The door cracks a little and you can already hear the little sniffles as someone tries to talk to him. It’s obvious the little hybrid is refusing to listen to the worried shelter worker trying to calm him down enough to drink some water.

You walk into the room and set your purse down, moving to the chair as soon as the worker vacates it.

“Hey there, honey. It’s okay. Shhh. We’re here,” you croon softly as the tears slowly stop.

The little hybrid had been facing the wall and was apparently too stuffed up to have smelt you enter, but he turns around when he hears you. He looks terrible - his cheeks gaunt and his eyes looking like he hadn’t slept in hundreds of years.

“Y/N?” he asks softly, like he can’t believe you’re actually there.

“Yes, it’s me. And Namjoonie too. We heard you weren’t feeling good and wanted to come to see you. Is that okay?”

He nods enthusiastically, then reaches his arms out slowly, searching your face for a rejection.

You coo and slide onto the bed, pulling Mark closer to your chest. This close, you can hear the rattling in his throat and feel that he weighs practically nothing. And his skin! It’s so cold! Like he just stepped out of a freezer. You had to get this poor thing warm fast.

“There, there, sweetness. I got you.”

Namjoon is standing at the end of the bed with a fond smile as he watched the two of you. You gesture for him to get into the other side of the bed.

“Hey, Mark? You know what’s really great when you don’t feel good?”

“What?” he asks through sniffles, his poor little voice hoarse and crackling.

“Dragon hugs. They feel so warm and safe. You’ll love it. Can Joonie give you a dragon hug?”

He pauses to think for a moment, then nods before he cuddles in closer to your chest. Namjoon takes his queue and slides onto the bed on the other side of Mark and wraps himself around the tiny hybrid, enveloping him in safety and warmth. You can feel his little body shivering as it tried to regulate its temperature, but Mark sighs as Namjoon’s excessive body heat is put to good use. Soon enough, he falls asleep and you decide to let him for a little while before you have to wake him to get more food and fluids in him.

Namjoon meets your eyes over the little hybrids head, absolute love and devotion shining in his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” you smile, reaching over to grab his hand.

You squeeze his hand and place a kiss on Mark’s head before closing your eyes and following the others into sleep, a feeling of rightness settling into your chest.

#btssmutclub #bts #bts fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #hybrids #hybrid au #hybrid!bts #dragon's lair #solastia

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mollysfoundfamily · 5 years ago

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Baby molly Headcannons: this is based on the baby molly one I did earlier The first time they did it was actually on accident but Zora tried to turn Ramsey into a baby for eating the last drum stick in the fridge- *all fried chicken is zora’s by default* and got molly instead

Gio is the first to try and comfort crying baby molly. He wraps her in her hoodie and rocks her back and forth until she falls asleep

They all decide to just wait it out because BABY MOLLY IS THE CUTEST THING THEY HAVE EVER SEEN.

Like what was mentioned by @epithet-headcannoned they set her down on a big blanket on the carpet with Percy and Gio watch her while the others run to the dollar store to get some baby toys and food

While they’re gone Gio whips up the cutest little bear onesie ever for her and she looks little the sweetest widdle bear cub in it!!!

They all just sit around her and watch and she rolls around and plays with all the little toys and take lots and lots of baby pictures with which to embarrass her later like good guardians

She always ends up crawling over to to Gio and tries to snuggle up in his lap he picks her up and bounces her as he rocks her causing her to giggle. she snuggles up real close to him and keeps touching his face with her little baby hands as he gives little forehead smooches and blows raspberries into her belly and all at once she just yells B-b-boss!! And Gio starts instantly balling his eyes out because he was her first word!

Later he takes her out in one of those baby chest things with his old helmet on her for safety to do some crime. The other blasters think she’s the cutest thing ever too!*

Sylvie finds it a little awkward to be holding his sort of girlfriend as a tiny baby but then Zora sneaks up behind him and babies him into a little bitty lamb sylvie to make things even! Molly tries to play with him at first but he will not stop crying no matter what they did, so Zora just zaps him back to normal. It didn’t stop the crying

Mera is a little scared to hold her too but Indus instantly scoops her up and holds her in one hand as she starts sucking his big old fingers and Indus just watches her starie eyed then throws her in the air and catches her over and over and let’s her ride on his head and roll around on his chest!

Mera takes her from him as fast as she can so she doesn’t accidentally get crushed or dropped and is actually the gentlest and softest out of all of them and Molly instantly falls asleep snuggled up her arms. Indus then cheerfully and obviously asks mera if they can get a baby if their own and mera almost has a heart attack

Percy’s material over protective instincts go into complete over drive and instantly starts baby proofing everything in the house ever her real ass sword! until Gio asks if she’d actually like to hold baby molly once for a long while she just sits outside on the their porch swing slowly swaying with her sleeping little bundle of joy looking at her with love in her eyes and no one can remember when the last time she’s ever looked so...relaxed

It isn’t long before Ramsey and Zora come out to join her with some ice tea and a warm bottle of milk Ramsey is actually the one who holds her and feeds her her bottle which Zora and Percy cuddle as the sun sets

he’s a little scared at first because normally when babies see his face they start screaming and crying but molly just smiles and giggles at him. Which makes him start to tear up and vows never to let thing happen to this sweet angel child as he burps her

Zora at first is like nah I’m good not really a baby fan but they insist she at least have one go at it because everyone else has. HER HEART JUST MELTS she’s never seen anything so precious in her life she instantly starts tickling her and doing southern baby talk as she snuggles her in her poncho Ramsey tried to take her back but Zora points her gun at his head and says five more minutes

Baby molly ends up being a tradition whenever molly needs cheering up from a really bad day she just gets to roll around and be loved and tickled and sleep to her little hearts content having so much positive attention as a baby is actually really good for her mental health when she re ages as well she starts to become more outgoing and self confident and everyone is so proud of her

#Epithet erased #epithet erased headcannon #headcannon #Baby Molly #molly blyndeff #LITTLE CUTIE PIE!!#EVERYONE LOVES HER #Bear Trap #Bear cub #baby bear

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freedom-shamrock · 6 years ago

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Everyone Needs to Shower - Chapter 3

Also on AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

This story was a one shot. But then Hilzabub suggested something (chapter 2) and Dragon_of_the_Sea suggested a post reveal stress relief use for freshly bathed Plagg (and as noted last chapter, I'm weak!).

This chapter is for day 11 of my ML WIP Completion Challenge

Adrien returned to his room after dinner and went immediately to his little refrigerator. "Hey Plagg," he called, pulling out a cardboard package and tugging at the tabs. "Eat up."

"There's not an akuma," Plagg grumbled. "And yet you clearly expect me to suit up." He flew out from the trash can where he'd been lounging. "What's the deal?"

"What with her university applications pending and that imminent contest announcement My Lady is pretty stressed," he said.

Plagg gulped his cheese. "We're going to see Sugarcube and Cupcake?" He darted down to hop up and down on Adrien's miraculous. "C'mon, kid. Suit up already."

Adrien smiled. "Never thought I'd see the day you were eager to transform." Getting to know who his Ladybug was under the suit had, had all sorts of nice side benefits. Not the least of which was cuddles and dates.

"Our Ladies need us," Plagg hissed, zipping up to poke Adrien in the nose. "Say the words dude."

"Plagg, claws out." He couldn't be upset with Plagg being as smitten with Marinette as he was. He had a special affinity with Tikki, himself, so it was a good balance.

Chat Noir slipped out the window with the ease of years of practice and was darting across the rooftops the next moment. In what seemed like no time at all, he was landing on Marinette's balcony. He listened, hearing her voice inside, and waited until he determined she was ranting to herself. Poor Buginette. She tended to wildly catastrophize when she was stressed and worried. It was probably the same part of her brain that lead to such brilliant designs and that let her figure out the crazy uses for her lucky charms. He leaned down and tapped on her skylight.

Tikki phased through the window. "Oh, am I glad to see you."

"That bad?" Chat Noir asked, reaching for the handle.

Tikki shook her head. "I can't get her to listen to me. She's going to make herself sick."

"So I'm welcome, then?" he asked, itching to see his girlfriend, but hesitating out of respect.

Tikki giggled. "You're not a vampire silly. Now get in there."

He wasted no further time, lifting the hatch and letting himself in with the speed and silence that had become his hallmarks. He dropped his transformation as his feet hit the floor.

"Look, Marinette," Tikki said, darting in front of her holder. "It's our boys."

"Huh?" She looked up just as the green flash faded. Her hair was a mess and she looked like she hadn't slept well in days. "Oh. Hi. I'm sorry, I'm not going to be very good company, but the waiting is kind of getting to me." The words came out in a rush.

"And that's why we're here Cupcake," Plagg said, rushing over to nuzzle her cheek. He looked back at Adrien. "We need to haul out the big guns, kid."

Adrien smiled, pleased he and the cranky cat were on the same page. "I couldn't agree more." He slipped an arm around Marinette's shoulders, ushering her to the sink in the corner of her room. Getting the water to a pleasant temperature, he plugged the drain.

"What are we doing?" Marinette asked. As he'd found in the past, random non-sequiturs tended to snap her out of her mental spiral.

"Grooming," Plagg said. "It's what cats do to comfort each other."

She stared at the black kwami as he rummaged in the small drawer for a sample bottle of shampoo. The one he pulled out contained lavender. "Grooming? So you're going to was my hair?"

"Pfft," Plagg giggled. "Nope."

Adrien rolled over one of her chairs and raised it up. "Have a seat Mari. I'm going to brush your hair while you give Plagg a bath."

Marinette sat down, still looking puzzled as Plagg nestled under her hand.

Adrien watched his girlfriend get started, her initial movements unsure until she got a feel for things, then he went to work on her hair. He removed her ties and started at the end, working out the snarls as gently as he could. By the time her hair was smooth and silky, she was smiling a little as she played with Plagg in the sink. Tikki floated over and helped Adrien brain Marinette's hair so it wouldn't tangle up again too soon.

"So when did this become a thing?" Tikki whispered.

"Ages ago, actually," Adrien said. While he remembered the first time he'd made Plagg have a shower, he could no longer recall exactly what lead to it.

She shook her little head. "No wonder you two have such a strong bond. You've worked past his attitude and appealed to the cat."

"It was an accident at first," Adrien admitted. "But it grew on both of us." He leaned over Marinette's shoulder to kiss her cheek. "Okay. Bathtime's over. Time for drying." Tikki helped him find a towel and a hair dryer, and he set up a nest for them all to snuggle in on her floor. Marinette was adorable as she scooped the sodden kwami out of the water bundling him into the towel and cuddling him close.

"Why is this working?" Tikki asked.

Adrien handed Marinette the dryer. "Make sure you run your fingers through his coat so it doesn't clump up." He winked at Tikki. "She's a caretaker, so this feeds that need. And petting a cat lowers blood pressure."

Marinette continued to contentedly scritch at Plagg well after he was dry. She was able to set aside the blow dryer and use both hands. She looked utterly at peace., a nice change from her earlier state.

"You're so soft," Marinette whispered in a tiny squeal. "Sooooo soft."

Plagg purred vigorously at her, nuzzling her palms.

"When did she last eat?" Adrien asked.

"Supper, but she mostly picked at it," Tikki said. "Sleep is really the more pressing concern."

"You're the cutest softest thing ever," Marinette murmured.

"Okay, sweet Princess," Adrien said, easing her into a reclined position. She was pretty adorable when she was overtired. "You just cuddle with the cutest softest thing ever, and Tikki and I will cuddle you."

Shummed in response.

Plagg slowly moved closer, encouraging Marinette to curl in further.

Adrien wrapped himself around her, pulling a blanket up over them both as Tikki settled on his neck.

"I appreciate this, Adrien," Tikki whispered. "But I have to tell you, this is the weirdest thing I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of weird things."

This wraps up the hygienic Plagg experience. Thanks for reading!

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #My Writing #Everyone Needs to Shower #mlfluffiction #Adrien #Plagg #Tikki #Marinette #WIP challenge #justynadraws

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mummapaintstheblues · 6 years ago

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Mumma does a drabble Part 3

Here is the third installment of the pregnancy drabbles. Hope you enjoy <3

Part One Here Part Two Here

11:31pm.

That had been the exact hour, the precise minute, that the world had delivered to him the most precious of all gifts. Rendering all the hours and minutes preceding it an unimportant blur, even if that wasn’t the case at all. Because they had all lead him here, to this moment

There had been no cry for them to hear, but at 11:31pm, they had heard something which Kakashi would never have considered beautiful before. But it was the most miraculous of sounds to him now.

It was a sneeze.

A sneeze, and she was finally here. Followed by a flurry of sneezes. The cutest burbling and puffing to ever reach his ears.

There was an earnest and tired exchange with Sakura, her eyes almost completely shut, but the contentment on her face was real. Kakashi leaned over to place a kiss on her brow, she was still unable to move, he could feel the relief falling over them both like a blanket.

“Thank you.”

The whispered words were met with a soft sigh from Sakura. Surrounded by doctors, nurses and machinery he wasn’t even worried if she’d heard him properly. The world had formed a soundproof bubble around them for just that moment.

From behind the curtain one of the doctors or surgeons appeared. Kakashi couldn’t have told you who or what exactly their job was, but they uttered a question that had only one answer.

“Would you like to see your daughter now?”

Sakura was still unable to move, the only sign of her eagerness in the widening of her eyes.

“Please.”

In an instant the tiny bundle was brought to them, surrounded by doctors, and placed on Sakura’s chest. The only part of her body she was able to see. Kakashi stared at the baby that was wrapped up, so only her face was showing. So close to her, he could see the slight point of her ears, like Sakura’s. He could see the white tuft of hair on her head. Her eyes were closed as if she were sleeping.

“Kakashi, look at her ears…”

Sakura’s words were tired and weak, but the excitement dripped through, that she had noticed this detail first as well. Kakashi exhaled in contentment. Unable to pull his eyes from her.

“She looks so peaceful…” he finally managed to get out. “I wish she was awake so we can finally meet properly.”

The anesthesiologist sitting directly behind Sakura’s head, who Kakashi had completely forgotten about in the moment, shifted and blocked the harsh lights that were shining down on them. He gave Kakashi a knowing smile, but it had only been for a fleeting second, Kakashi was unwilling to look away from her for too long.

It was just as well he did. With the light blocked now, the baby’s eyes very slowly opened.

All the while she remained silent. As if she were curiously studying her new world and all those in it. The wrinkle of her brow as it furrowed was the expression that caused a slight chuckle to escape him.

“Hello Maika.”

Sakura’s voice wavered, straining to stay awake.

“What’s her name?”

Shizune shouted from over the curtain somewhere.

“Maika. Maika Hatake.”

Kakashi couldn’t quite believe the words falling from his mouth were his. That this precious and tiny person bore his name.

“It’s a beautiful name.”

One of the doctors said, far too closely to his ear, and it was now that he realized just how surrounded they were. This doctor in particular had never lifted her hand from beneath the tiny parcel of wonder. And Kakashi only now realized why in a sudden rush of panic that turned the blood in his body to ice.

“You see here how her nostrils are flaring like that?” The doctor spoke quickly, obviously well versed in relieving panic. “We call it flaring, and it means…”

“She’s working a little harder to breathe than she should need to.”

Sakura finished the sentence for her. Kakashi momentarily soothed by the tone of her voice, so matter of fact and without a trace of worry.

What they next explained to him passed in another vague smudge of time. All that mattered was that he would staying with baby Maika while Sakura was in recovery for the next two hours. In an instant he felt a surging guilt that he would be spending these first moments with the beautiful bundle they had created, that Sakura would feel robbed of this. But Sakura simply nodded to him with a tired smile before her eyes drifted shut.

Maika would be taken to the Specialty Care Baby Unit, her breathing checked, before she would be brought to Kakashi. He watched them take her away, cursing in his mind that he was jealous of all the doctors and nurses able to touch her, while he still had been unable to. Then he was ushered from the room, barely enough time for him to place a hand on Sakura’s cheek before they shoved a pair of green scrubs in his hands.

Kakashi couldn’t remember changing. He couldn’t remember how he made it to that little room. He couldn’t sit. He was itchy.

In the purest rush of happiness he’d felt since the day Sakura asked to be his wife, he suddenly realized that everything he loved most in the world was at least under this one roof together. That they would all be together soon enough.

So he waited. He paced. The happiness and excitement unable to stay still for very long while he waited for baby Maika.

Ten minutes. It had only been ten minutes. It felt like a lifetime.

And then she was wheeled in, a lone doctor pushing the cradle in with a smile, everything was fine. As Sakura knew it would be of course. This doctor might have spoken to Kakashi but he’d never heard it. Just found himself sitting in the rooms sole armchair and handed the softest and most treasured of all bundles.

The doctor left.

Kakashi sat with Maika resting on his chest, her eyes now closed in peaceful sleep, soaking in the warmth of her father. She had been cleaned up, the white of her hair now poking strands in all directions. Her skin pure and soft as cotton wool.

Kakashi had been quietly panicking, unbeknownst to Sakura, these last few weeks. Worried that his hands weren’t meant to handle something so precious, so wonderful as new life. But here she was, and she fitted in his hands so perfectly. Wriggling into them as if that was where she had always meant to be, comfortable even against the itchy scrubs.

He wished she would fit in his hands forever. Wished he could sit here forever. But time is a fickle thing when something so beautiful is in your hands. It drifted away like sand in the wind.

The sound of wheels and voices stirred him. A familiar flash of pink hair now lying on the gurney at the hospital door. Had it been two hours already?

Sakura looked sheepish, grinning, Kakashi wasn’t sure which of his girls was more beautiful in that moment.

“Who’s the handsome surgeon holding my baby?”

Her voice was in a mock whisper, he chuckled silently.

#kakasaku #fluff #fanfic #this is how I became Mumma btw

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strawberrytaewithkookie · 7 years ago

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soft bias tag 💭

I've been tagged by the lovely @namkoya thank you cosmic child ily (OJO)

✈ who’s my bias?

none other than the world's handsomest and cutest, kim seokjin

✈ what made you notice them?

i don't really remember coz jin isn't my initial bias but he's my bias wrecker and he kinda grew on me with his witty humour, manly charm and being a big dork. and who can resist that handsome face and wide shoulders and proportionate body he's sculpted from the gods i tell ya

✈ what's your favourite thing about them?

uhh... everything?? *sweats nervously*

✈ who would initiate skinship more?

probably him because i'm not much of a skinship person in public but holding hands is fine tho

✈ who would hog the blankets more?

definitely me. i love bundling myself up in a cocoon

✈ who would be more clingy?

i would say myself coz despite not liking much skinship, i love hugs and cuddles and one might say too much of that may "suffocate" the other party...

✈ who would say i love you first?

jin, but he'll make it either very subtle or he'll proclaim it for the world to know there's no in between for him asdfghjkl

✈ who would be easily more flustered?

me, me and me coz hello? one glance at him and my breath hitches so imagine having him to literally look at you i'm *pterodactyl screech*

✈ what cuddling position would you two have?

back cuddles! i'm a tiny person and him being a tol, back cuddles are the best :))

✈ which colour reminds you of him?

pink because jin invented that colour. apparently he doesn't like that colour anymore?? so the next best thing is pastels coz i'll forever remember him in oversized hoodies and being the softest marshmallow :')

✈ what season would you like to spend with them?

spring because spring marks new beginnings and cherry blossoms are pink, which suits jin so well

✈ who would bake the cookies and who would steal the batter?

we'd both take turns baking the cookies and stealing the batter coz while i'm not a pro at cooking like jin, i'm not terrible in the kitchen either

✈ which one of you would make bad puns and how would the other react?

jin is the master of bad puns no brainer there and i would either laugh my ass off or wanting to crawl into a hole to hide from embarrassment

✈ who would want to adopt 50 cats and dogs?

neither. while each of us don't mind having a couple of pets, 50 is a tad too much isn't it?

✈ which one of you would nearly burn the kitchen down trying to microwave a pop tart and who would come to the rescue?

neither coz we're both pros in working the microwave. the kitchen is our playground :))

✈ who likes to lean over trail railings and who would pull them back?

jin would be that dork who likes to play around and because i'm scared of heights, i would be the one pulling him back from falling to his death due to idiocy

✈ what would watching a horror movie be like?

we would both be huddling under blankets, and cushions half-hiding our faces as we watch those intense scenes, letting out a yell of fear here and there asdfghjkl

✈ who would be the cheesy flirt and who would be the smooth flirt?

jin would be the one being both the cheesy and smooth flirt as i'm really an awkward potato when it comes to flirting

✈ who would be more competitive?

i think it's me but jin might get into his competitive mode just to piss me off

✈ who would have to be given constant reminders (to eat, sleep, drink water, etc.)?

we'd both send constant reminders but because jin's schedule is very hectic, i'd guess it'll be me

✈ who sends memes and who sends cute “i miss you” texts at 3 am?

jin is the one with all the memes and i'll be the one with the cute messages because my mobile is devoid of memes asdfghjkl

This was really fun to do albeit getting stumped over some questions, and i shall be tagging my sweet mutuals hoping they'll have fun doing this as well :)) @peachyoonjin, @jiminyippee, @guccitaedown and @omgkook

#this is the cutest and softest tag i've come across #tagged

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fandom-smut-shots · 7 years ago

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Natasha - Family of Three

Title

Family of Three

Pairing

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Fandom

Avengers

Summary

Request for Romanogers2015

"Hey, you know on your Natasha romanoff x reader, I was wondering if you would be able to do a chapter where they adopt a baby girl or something like that? It would be nice to see how Natasha would react with a baby around her :)"

Many people believed that Avengers shouldn't have children, for a variety of reasons. You'd heard them all, from reasonable points like "It's a dangerous lifestyle," to absurd accusations such as "The Avengers are bad people who don't deserve families." Despite all the good the team had done, there were still some skeptics in the world who thought that the band of super citizens brought more destruction than they prevented.

You knew some of the team believed the statement as well - that Avengers shouldn't have children. You understood their concerns. Bucky had the constant fear of hurting someone with his prosthetic arm. Steve worried that he wouldn't have time for a family. Clint feared that the enemy would use his family as leverage. Tony was concerned about his loved ones ending up in the middle of a battle.

But the one that broke your heart was the belief of your own girlfriend, Natasha. She didn't believe she deserved children. She thought that all of the torture and murder she'd committed, along with her other miscellaneous crimes committed out of justice and protection, deemed her unfit to be a parent. She simply believed that she wasn't good enough to have a family of her own, and you knew how desperately she wanted one.

You'd broached the subject a couple of times, but after the first attempt resulted in Natasha collapsing against your chest with the most crestfallen expression on her beautiful face, you didn't have the heart to bring it up very often. Only when Nat was in a good mood or you had a particularly heavy case of Baby Fever did you mention it, and it always ended the same.

Nat wanted a family, with you, but she didn't think she deserved one.

It had been six months since the last attack on New York; the last time the Avengers had been called together. Your optimistic nature thought that maybe things were looking up, but you knew cautious people like Natasha were just waiting for the next disaster.

You needed to give Natasha something happy in her life, something to look forward to besides you. Plus, you would have company while your girlfriend was out on missions.

You had a steady job that made more than enough money to support a family. You and the redhead had moved into an apartment of your own, and you had a car. Everything in your lives was stable and good.

It was time.

You picked Natasha up after a meeting with the team at the Tower, telling her that you had a surprise. She was skeptical, but the grin on her lips told you that she loved your surprises, even when she said she didn't. Matching her grin, you drove to your destination, not giving her a single hint.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she read the name of the building. "New York Adoption Agency? (Y/n), what is this?"

You took in a breath. "For the past several months, I've been in contact with worker here. I've filled out paperwork and told her about both of us. I told her what we've been looking for and today, she's found the perfect match. All we have to do is finish the papers and meet our child." (1)

"Our... child?"

You nodded, gesturing for her to exit the car. You followed, locking it as you headed into the building. Taking her hand, you flashed her a smile, walking up to the front desk. You gave the woman your name and told her who you had an appointment with. She smiled and led you to a room down the hall where your worker's office was. You thanked her before slipping inside and sitting down.

Your worker, Amanda, soon followed, smiling warmly at you. "(Y/n), always a pleasure. And you must be Natasha?"

The redhead nodded slowly, gripping your hand.

Amanda's smile widened. "I've found just the perfect match for you two."

Another worker entered the office with a pink bundle in her arms. You rose to stand before her, your heart melting at the tiny, rosy-cheeked face that peeked out from the folds.

"She's perfect," you breathed, taking her in your arms. You turned around, facing Natasha, who stood from her seat.

"What's her name?" she asked softly.

"She doesn't have one," Amanda replied. "She was given up at birth. You get to name her."

"What do you think?" you asked your girlfriend.

"(Girl/n)," Natasha exhaled. You beamed. It was Natasha's favorite name - she accepted what you had done.

You finished signing the paperwork and wrote your daughter's name on her birth certificate.

After thanking Amanda for all of her help, you carried (g/n) out to the car with Natasha in tow. You strapped her into the carseat you had already placed in the back seat, securing her safety before slipping into the driver's seat. You watched as Natasha turned around, gazing at your daughter while you drove home. A warm smile lit up your face. You were a family.

A week later, you finally agreed to let Tony throw you a baby shower. Well, more of a welcoming party. He had been begging since you first told him about the adoption, but you wanted to give yourself, Natasha, and the baby some time to adjust before introducing her to the team.

By the time the three of you arrived at the Tower, Tony had decked it out in what looked like the entire baby girl's section of a party store. Pink and white streamers were tacked to the ceiling, pink and silver balloons were tied to every chair, a large "It's a girl!" banner was stretched across the doorway, a large cake with pink and white frosting spelling out "Welcome Home baby (g/n)!" was waiting on the counter, and there was a table dedicated to a large pile of gifts. (2)

"Tony," you breathed. "This is incredible."

"Only the best for a baby Avenger!" the billionaire grinned. He held out his arms, and with a chuckle, you placed (g/n) in his hold. He cooed to her softly, and a giggle escaped your lips. You held Natasha's hand as the rest of the team gathered to greet your baby.

You sat down beside Nat on a couch as the guys passed you presents to open. Tony had gotten you the fanciest carseat you'd ever seen, and it was one of the new ones that you could adjust as your child grew, so you didn't have to buy another one. Clint had gotten you bottles and formula, which had been suggested by Laura. Bruce had found the cutest and softest stuffed animals and baby blankets and wrapped them all up in a gift basket. Steve supplied you with diapers and baby wipes. Pepper bought you about a dozen baby outfits. Thor, with Jane's help, gave you a basket of baby lotions, shampoos, and powders.

"You guys are amazing," you sighed as you looked at the collection of presents for your daughter.

"Anything for you two," Tony beamed. You wrapped your arm around Nat, who was cradling your sleeping daughter. Just the look of love and adoration in her eyes told you that you made the right choice. You were making her see that she deserved a family.

You leaned against her side as the cake was cut and passed out, and the three of you spent the day with he team, celebrating your new family.

(1) I know the adoption process takes forever but I don't know all the details so for the story's sake leave it alone and let it be simple.

(2) I know some people don't like traditional colors like pink for girls, so before you whine, I did say he cleared out the party store, and at the party store, girly decorations ae pink. Plus I like pink for girls.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #reader inserts #fem!reader

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rue-by-another-name · 7 years ago

Photo

Agreed. This one is for you Anon, and for @harry-writings, the sweetest of sweethearts. I got a little carried away.

The first time Harry saw the sweater, he didn’t know what to say as he looked down at it in his hands. It was soft, like extremely soft, and he knew that would bother him considering the elementary planets on the front. It was a perfectly good sweater but those planets ruined the whole thing.

“Love, you know I can't wear this,” Harry called from the living room where he was sitting on the couch, rubbing the knitted fabric between his fingers as he sighed. “It’s ghastly.”

“What?!” you cried from the kitchen. At first Harry had thought you’d gotten it for him as a joke, the planetary system all spread around around the collar is if he was Ms. Frizzle awaiting his Magic School Bus.

But the more he gave you an incredulous look, the more he realized you’d actually gotten this as a real present.

“Well it ...” Harry didn’t know exactly how to phrase this without hurting your feelings. “It’s just ... m’not a primary teacher, ya know?”

“It’s from a designer,” you snapped, stepping into the hallway from the kitchen with the cutest glare on your face.

And Harry knew this. He now got a kick out of the fact that you’d walked into a real department store, like an actual real fancy one, and out of all the clothes you could have picked for him to go to work, you’d decided on this one.

“Babe,” he leaned back on the sofa with the sweater still in his hands and watched as you made your way over to him, stepping over some of the wrapping paper from the previously discarded present packaging materials while holding up the bowl of soup in one hand and water in the other.

“You are just the hardest to get presents for, you know that Mr. Styles?” you huffed, feeling slightly annoyed that Harry hadn’t found the sweater as adorable as you had. Sure, he was right about it being a little big on him, but you were nervous that if he went to return it for another size, he would come out with someone else entirely.

You liked the sweater.

Harry hummed, placing the sweater aside as he leaned forward and reached out for your shirt, pulling you to him between his legs as he nuzzled his face into your slightly protruding stomach. “You’ve already given me the best gift though, Mrs. Styles.”

You placed the glass of water on the table beside the couch before carting your fingers through his hair as Harry repeatedly kissed you pregnant belly affectionately. You weren’t showing much, but your bump had just started to really grow and Harry hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you.

“You’re keeping the sweater,” you whispered, tilting his chin up to look at you as Harry pouted, “And you’re wearing it to your mum’s.”

“Wha-” Harry started to protest but you raised a finger, along with an eyebrow, and Harry scoffed. “You’re killing me woman.”

He stood, kissed your forehead, and tossed his shirt of rather quickly before reaching for the sweater. Yeah, it was a bit big on him. He had to roll the sleeves a couple times and the soft knitted material hung just below his bum, but he looked cute with his shorter cut hair and baby scruff.

Plus, you thought, when you went in for a hug and he engulfed you lovingly, the soft material encompassing you was soothing.

You liked the sweater.

The second time Harry saw the sweater was after Christmas. The sweater was forgotten for a couple months. It sat on Harry’s side of your walk-in closet, just on the second shelf from the top along with his other “things I just need to go through, is all,” he’d said.

In reality, it was all the clothes he hadn’t picked for himself, and was avoiding having to return. They were the shirts from his mum that he packed when you went home, and the pants his sister had gotten him for work that he wore for her rehearsal dinner.

And the planetary sweater.

You started growing out of your clothes rather quickly once your stomach grew bigger, and while rummaging through some of Harry’s bigger t-shirts for bed, the sweater basically fell on your head as if to stop you from all your riffling. Walking out of your closet, Harry looked up from the book at the sound of your presence, his face tilting slightly to get a look at you over his reading glasses (the same reading glasses he half the time refused to wear because he declared it made him an old man at the mere age of 27).

“Look who it is,” Harry chuckled, tossing his book aside along with his glasses as he sat up, in nothing but his pajama pants, to pull you towards him as you kneeled on the bed in front of him between his parted long legs.

“We really need to go shopping for more maternity clothes,” you sighed, “I’m busting out of everything and it’s awfully uncomfortable when teaching all day.”

Harry hummed as his hands rubbed over the soft material resting comfortable on your stomach. This was his favorite thing in the whole world, but it only got better when he felt a little nudge.

The small gasp you gave and the strangled cry Harry made only confirmed you’d both felt the kick - the first kick - and you met eyes for a moment before both placing your hands on your stomach awaiting the second one.

“Look at that!” Harry cried, feeling another kick as he brought your hand to the small little protruding feeling. It was an odd sensation, but you reveled in it to see the tears in Harry’s eyes. “Oh that’s fantastic,” he whispered, almost to himself.

“She likes the sweater,” you smiled, making Harry give you a pointed look for more than one reason.

“First off, love, it’s a boy. I can feel it in my bones. And secondly, it’s not the sweater.”

But as you fell asleep that night, the soft material keeping you cozy and warming Harry’s bare chest, Harry couldn’t help but think that, damn it, it might just be the sweater.

The third time Harry saw the sweater was after you’d brought your first daughter, Stella, home. You’d named her Stella because it was Italian, for ‘star,’ but Harry also ground your gears by admitting it was also after his favorite All Time Low song, Stella.

You thought that was ridiculous.

Where the time spent in the hospital was all fine and well, it was when you brought little Stella home that all hell seemed to break loose. Anne had told you she’d lend you a hand whenever you needed, and though your heart longed and cherished the family you now finally had in Anne and Harry’s family, you and Harry had had the conversation that you both needed to be able to rely on each other and figure it out as first-time parents.

But now you were second guessing that decision as you and Harry jogged across the hall to Stella’s nursery for the third time that night as she screamed with cries.

“You were so cute,” Harry whispered as he picked Stella up but she continued to cry, “Until you opened your cute little mouth. What is going on with you little star?”

“She can’t be hungry,” you clutched your boobs, “I feel like there’s nothing else in me.”

Harry pouted as he rocked the little babe, sighing as you paced back and forth nervously. “Could she be in pain?” you asked, “Is her diaper too tight? What if she -”

“Sweetheart,” Harry hushed you, “The more you worry, the more she’ll just cry. I think ...” Harry thought for a moment before handing the little one off to you, “I read in a baby book that sometimes skin-to-skin contact can help.”

“You just want to take your shirt off,” you hissed, watching as Harry pulled off his shirt and gestured for you to hand Stella back over. For a moment, as Stella’s little head rested against Harry’s chest, she was quiet. You and Harry stared at each other in awe, you jumped around silently cheering a bit too soon before Stella started crying again.

“Where’s her blanket?” you asked, racing back into your room as Harry followed you. Your room was a mess, an absolute pit of disaster, since Stella had been born. The two of you were so busy now with your little star, that you’d barely done laundry. Stella’s yellow blanket, the one full of stars from her Grandma Anne, was nowhere in sight as Harry called for you nervously as Stella continued to cry.

“I can’t find it!” you cried, “I can’t -”

“Then find something soft!” Harry snapped, looking back down to Stella and cooing at her as he rocked her anxiously back and forth.

“Okay okay here; give her to me,” you ushered as you grabbed the softest thing you could find by touch and bundled it into your arms. Harry gingerly handed Stella over, and after a couple whimpers, Stella slowly, and cutely, fell asleep in your arms.

You and Harry waited to celebrate this time, knowing you’d done so prematurely, but after around five or so minutes of your sleeping babe soundly breathing in your arms, you and Harry were finally able to sigh in relief.

“What is this?” Harry asked, lifting up the arm of whatever was wrapping his daughter comfortably. Instantly, he knew what it was and he couldn’t help but scoff, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” you asked nervously, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the bloody planet sweater,” Harry shook his head, “Of course it is.”

“What?” you gasped, “No!”

“Yes,” Harry grumbled and sat down at the end of the bed, head in his hands, “Do you know what this means?”

You shrugged, “That our daughter can finally sleep?”

“That we have to keep the blasted thing,” Harry grumbled, “Jesus.”

“Oh hush,” you cooed.

You went to put Stella back down in her crib, and when you came back to the bedroom you found Harry sitting at his easel, pencil in his hand against the canvas as he rubbed his eyes. You walked up behind him and ran your hands through his hair before down along his shoulders, resting your cheek against his back as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I know you like the sweater,” you whispered. You kissed along his shoulders before kissing the top of his head and wrinkling your nose. “You smell.”

“I don’t remember the last time I showered,” Harry admitted, easily running the pencil along the canvas. “I want to sketch her right now, ya know? Right when she’s her littlest. She’ll never be so little ever again. So little.”

“I think you need some sleep too,” you chuckled, “You have all the time in the world to draw her. Years and years to draw her,” you whispered, “But in this moment I think you should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “Before I murder a fucking sweater.”

For the next couple of months, you and Harry both changed off wearing the planetary sweater often. In fact, whenever you needed to put Stella down for a nap, you would switch out who needed to wear it in order to lull her to sleep. Harry, though he didn’t want to admit it, came to love the sweater and bask in the comfort of it once Stella was asleep as the two of you curled up on the couch in the hopes of getting some sleep as well.

Going back to work, the first picture Harry put on his desk of Stella was a picture of you and Stella - your little baby girl bubbling as you carried her, a laugh on your face, and the planetary sweater hanging on your body comfortably.

Harry hated to admit it, but he was eternally grateful now that you’d bought him that dumb sweater, no matter how tacky he’d found it originally.

The last time Harry saw the sweater was when Harry pulled the last of Stella’s luggage from the boot of the car at uni. He ran his hand through his greying hair, sighing as he watched you and Stella walk out of her dorm after checking her in.

“Okay,” you clapped, “Stel’s room is on the second floor. Isaac, Phillip, we only brought you two so you can carry your sister’s luggage so please, be careful?” you chastised, watching your teenage twin boys grumble under their breath before Stella ruffled both their heads as she grabbed her backpack.

Stella, following in her mother’s footsteps, and wanted to be a pilot. Much to Harry (and a bit of your own) chagrin, she wanted to be end up in space by the end of her college career. 16-year-old Isaac and Phillip however, were more than glad for their older sister to rocket up into space at any time.

You had told Stella over and over that if she really wanted to be a pilot, really wanted to go into space, then she would have to prove her worth. And time and time again, Stella had proven her worth tenfold. So here you were, loading her things into her dorm room, and Harry wanted to cry.

Stella was basically the spitting image of you as she bloomed into adulthood, and as Harry watched from the doorway as she directed Isaac and Phillip on where to put her things, rolling up the sleeves of the well-worn planetary sweater, and smiling at you as you kissed her forehead.

You and Harry had talked about this endlessly - you would drop Stella off, help her move in, make sure she had everything she needed - and then you would leave. You would definitely leave, easily.

But now you and Harry were standing in the doorway, watching as Stella put a picture frame of the three of you on her desk, put up a vintage NASA poster, and tossed pillows at her brothers to move them off her bed.

“If we don’t leave now, I’m going to kick one of these girls out of their room and move in,” Harry mumbled to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and holding you close. “I’m not kidding.”

“Hey,” you looked up at him and pushed a stray curl from his forehead, “At least you’re finally getting rid of that sweater.”

“I love that sweater,” Harry whimpered.

After your goodbyes were done, the tears were shed, and you had pulled Harry by his collar out of the dorms and towards the car, it was now just the four of you watching Stella wave from her window as you drove away.

“Someone’s got to tell her that sweater is ghastly,” Isaac snickered.

“She’ll make no friends,” Phillip agreed.

“Hey,” Harry said, “Your mum bought me that sweater. It’s vintage. It’s a collectable. It’s from a designer.”

Phillip snorted, “That doesn’t change the fact that Stel’s a nerd.”

“I was a nerd,” you gasped, turning to the twins as they laughed at you. “And look where I am now!”

“You were a hot nerd,” Harry mumbled, shrugging, causing the twins to react and cringe and you to lean over and kiss his cheek. “My little space nerd,” Harry cooed.

#space friends #rue_by_another_name

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