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sakkiichi · 2 years ago

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COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

��You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

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sangunary · 5 days ago

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YANDERE BATFAM x NEGLECTED READER

-Hush now crybaby.

SYPNOSIS: When your family only cherish you after your death.

Warning: Child neglect, bullying,violence, gore, death.

\\ Part 1 // \\ Part 2 //

You were the blood daughter but not the same as how Damian was, you were from a simple one night stand your father had... A mistake.

Ever since your mother left you behind with your suppose Father your life took an unpleasant turn.

Your life with your father was supposed to be colourful and exciting afterall you've been watching the other kids playing with their Fathers in the park. You remembered how envious you were back than, how everybody have a sibling to talk about, but for you? It wasn't that much of a talk on your end and you felt boring.

It broke your little heart when you realised that... Family really suck.

If it wasn't true than you wouldn't be standing alone on the stage while everyone else have their father's by their side.

It was supposed to be a father daughter day.

You inform him yourself even picking out a new dress for the special occasion with Alfred but your Father wasn't even near sight.

You were holding back your tears, gripping onto the end of your new dress looking at the ground.

Each time your heart pounds against your ribcage you could feel the agonizing pain that sent shock throughout your whole body.

The tears in your eyes were filling, dangerously close to bursting out. Yet you tried your best to not spill even a drop of tear.

Everybody called you a crybaby, but you weren't a crybaby just- it's hard to understand why you even cry ay times.

It wasn't your fault your poor heart couldn't handle their harsh word... It's not your fault your heart is fragile, it just needed some love and maybe a tint of understanding to fix it.

"Im sorry kid, I can't bring you to the park on Tuesday, me and little wing made an arrangement that we would go to the museum" Dick words ring inside your ears.

"But you said- you promised me that you'd bring me to the park... last sunday, I ask first" You replied, your hand's wrap around the little bear that you were going to give to your older brother... To thank him for bringing you to the park.

You couldn't help but feel a terrific ache inside your heart.

It wasn't fair, Damian asked today and you already asked last Sunday! And Dick and Damian already went to the museum together last monday...

"Im sorry but... Damian you know how he is, he's just cold and opportunities like this never come often, you have to understand. You're a big girl" Dick reminded you.

You couldn't help but let out a little huff. Damian that Damian this when was it ever about you. Even on your birthday Dick always brought present for him!

You remembered how Dick gave you a silly bunny doll abit chewed on, said it was his dog old/favourite doll... While Damain received a literal book signed by the very author on your birthday!

"You... promised first!" You spit back.

You were on the verge of crying spilling it all out. You grip onto your doll as you looked at the ground a drop of tear fall from your eyes and land on the marble floor.

And that's when you heard the disappointed sigh from your older brother.

The floor was clean enough to the point you could see your own pathetic face... Face red and eyes watery... You look ugly.

"Kid look... See this is why I choose Damian, you're too... spoiled, you can't just cry to get what you want. If you don't change this behaviour I won't go out with you"

"I-"

"No 'I', you're extremely spoiled and Damian isn't. This is why I don't want to go out with you, Damian is somewhat more shameful than you"

You swallowed your Saliva, staring into the marble. Tears began to rain as you couldn't stop them from spilling, you wipe your tears with your hands which wasn't helping.

You sniff and hiccup not daring to even look at Dick.

It was very clear who the favourite was from the beginning. Even if you were to get stab Damian would be the first they check on for any scar or scrab.

Every night you would weep inside your room or bathroom, grabbing onto anything and wrapping it around you to envision the warmth of comfort.

"Jason?" you called out. You only called out because you were on the verge of crying and you could smell the cigarette and you knew only Jason smoke.

"Jay?" you called out again, walking towards the balcony, you're in desperate need of comfort now. It was your birthday yet nobody remembered even Alfred forgot it.

It was terrible, the only thing you asked for was a little family dinner together having fun not everyone forgetting your own existence.

"Ja-"

"I heard you the first time"

Your hand's were twiddling with eachother, showing a clear sing you were somewhat anxious.

"Could you hug me? Please"

You cried out looking up at the older male.

You could never forget to say please cause last time it didn't end up well for you. They called you mannerless and even insulted your mother! You couldn't quite understand what Damian was speaking but he called a shame saying you ruin the perfect blood! to your face! Infront of everybody... Just because you forgot to say something!

"You're too old for one"

"I don't mind, just once please... it's my-"

"not everything have to be about you, princess"

Your smile flattered into a frown, when Jason first started calling you princess you were excited and extremely happy thinking he saw you as an amazing princess... Turns out that he only see you as a spoiled little girl... You heard it yourself.

"Just- it's my birthday and I thought a hug would be a very nice gift"

You spoke bravely again, maybe if you were persistent he might give up and hug you?

"...I don't want to hug you or acknowledge you, I don't want to hurt your little feelings but, do not indulged yourself with me. Is that clear?"

"Yeah... sorry"

Without a word you left the room, walking towards yours... Jason was compared to other's very good to you: he usually ignored your presence which was alright.

Before your reached your room you had to walk pass tim's and he was home but locked up again doing whatever he wished.

You could hear him mutter something from outside and you had a very nice idea.

After abit you knock on his door, your hand's wrap around a cup of coffee which you made yourself!

You knocked again. Nothing happened.

You knock thrice... Not even a sound.

Just than you decided to invite yourself in, afterall everyone in the family can definitely do that. You've never seen them knock to enter Tim's room.

"Tim?" you called out poking inside you check if he was there. Cause last time when you enter his room he went out the window, you found it funny.

The room was dark and the only source of light being the computer in which he was so absorb into.

Without thinking you went inside not forgetting to close the door.

"I made you coffee!" you announced to him.

"Thanks"

"...What are you doing" you asked hoping to atleast have a little conversation with him...

"Adult stuff" Tim was very vague.

"Can I se-"

"Im busy, put the coffee on the table and leave"

"Alright..."

You did as he asked and went towards the door and before you could even leave you watch as Tim throw the whole mug into the bin.

He definitely knew you were still in the room afterall he was smart he should know that. But, you didn't even speak up just suck it up and leave the room.

And as soon as you close the door, from the coner of your eyes you saw Damian. Looking at you directly.

Damian was bold and said lot's of bad stuff to you, as a result you spent half your day's avoiding him and as usual you tried avoiding him but... he stopped you.

"Where have you been?" His tone was surprisingly calm.

"Urm... I- was ugh..." You didn't know what to say? Told him that you were avoiding him and getting grounded or just yourself more of a victim than ever.

"You can't speak now?"

"I... sorry"

"Happy Birthday"

You couldn't even contain your shock face. Damian remembered your birthday? That's odd but very nice.

"Thank you!"

You couldn't help it, Damian of all people remembered your very existence... You felt important and that's all you need.

"There's a gift for you... Inside your room."

"Thanks! Im so... I thank you so much! I'll go check it!"

Before he could speak you ran towards your room all your tears gone now and you were filled with joy and excitement.

The moment you open the door to your room your heart dropped.

"..."

Your room was in ruined... Your heart dropped as you walk inside, your bed was wrecked your clothes were gone... most importantly the only picture of your mother was gone.

"What did you do?!"

You turned back, Damian was leaning against the door frame with that cocky grin on his face.

"Im helping you grow out your crybaby phase."

"What...?"

"See, crying again. Is that your only talent to cry until you get attention? Pathetic"

Without thinking you launched at him, it turn into a brutal fight but with Damian skill you were no match. He wasn't not going to pity you and you knew.

It took atleast two family members to seperate you two and stop the fight.

Jason was holding you by the hair but he wasn't pulling on it just silently threating you.

Everybody else were checking on Damian completely ignoring the fact that Damian punch you so hard your nose was bleeding.

And ever since that day everybody in the family saw you as the troublesome kid and whenever anything bad happened it was always your fault.

Not to mention how they even take a step further in ignoring you.

Every family movie night you would sit alone while everyone else sit in this big couch cuddling and giggling together. Even during Tag they completely forgot about you... Saying you were too old to play tag with them which made no sense...

Alfred was suddenly busy whenever you needed him and sometimes you had to walk home during a cyclone/rain because Alfred was busy.

Bruce become more strick and because of that your friends at school didn't even want to talk to you. Saying that as much as they wanted to be friends it to them it seems as you were ghosting them. You tried explaining even crying and begging humiliating yourself further... They never even dare to looked at you.

Everyday kept getting worse and you didn't even know what you did wrong.

You finally snapped out your thoughts and looked around... The same stage and same faces just- Bruce was still not present.

Salty tears stream down your face as you couldn't hold it in anymore. Everybody just stared at you and before your teacher could even ask you aside you ran.

You didn't know where or what your destiny was, your leg just moved on their own.

And before you knew it something hard hit you and your light were cut short.

From that day you found out you died, unfortunately you didn't went straight to haven and instead forced to stay on Earth.

You watched as your family finally acknowledged you. Always visiting your grave and even crying when nobody were around.

You felt happy, they finnally loved you!

But all it took was your life for them to realise their fault.

This Suck So MUCH.

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blkkizzat · 1 year ago

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please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg

Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡

Lessons in Anatomy

“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.

cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k

“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”

You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.

Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it!

You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room.

100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend.

Well not forced exactly.

You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.

“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.”

Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.

Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends.

However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get.

“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”

You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.

“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”

Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top.

You all were idiots.

Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot.

The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.

That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for. Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing.

Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’.

Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place.

Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.

“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”

You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.

How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?

Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year.

It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.

Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.

Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company.

He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.

But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife.

Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.

It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college.

You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.

You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.

And this was definitely not fun.

Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls.

You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn.

Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should.

Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin.

He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.

You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.

“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”

Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt.

Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself.

“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”

Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).

Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.

“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”

Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.

“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups.

You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).

Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?

“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”

Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat.

Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve.

“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”

Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes.

“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”

You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.

“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”

Damn.

You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss.

It was mostly true to be honest.

A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both.

Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross!

Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.

“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—”

You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.

“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”

You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded.

The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair.

Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating!

On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…

Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you.

To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory! This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!

Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?!

“Sugu…”

“Hey, Suguru!!!”

Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun.

You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now.

However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.

Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.

So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.

“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…”

Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.

Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now.

He had grown much more into his features since high school.

College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym.

He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.

Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time.

Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.

Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.

“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...”

You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that.

Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft.

Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.

“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.”

You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.

“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?”

There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone.

Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though.

If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.

“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”

You mouthed an ��O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.

But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience?

Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.

You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right?

Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were.

“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”

Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.

“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?”

“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you.

Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector.

Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru.

You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.

“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”

Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling.

“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?”

You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy.

“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”

His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.

“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”

You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip.

Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.

Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face.

He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows.

You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.

“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”

Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.

“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.”

You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable.

You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs.

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.

Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this.

If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.

“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”

You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him.

Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”

Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you.

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you.

But not your pussy just yet.

His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides.

Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.

“Sugu–”

“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”

You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment.

You had never been touched this delicately before.

Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.

If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.

“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?

Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.

“Say it, Y/N.”

Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word.

“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”

Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.

“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”

Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you.

Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.

“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”

You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here.

How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself.

You loved it.

Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone.

“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”

Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin.

Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.

“AHH!”

The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you.

Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.

“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”

Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.

“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”

You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head.

“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”

Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.

“Hey, Y/N–”

Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.

“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”

You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.

“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”

Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.

“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”

The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.

“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.”

Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.

“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”

Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.

Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.

Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.

“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”

Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.

“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”

A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening.

Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned.

You want him.

“Sugu–”

“–Shhh!”

Suguru cuts your pleas short.

“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”

You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole.

Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot.

Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–

“Found her.”

Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now.

“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”

Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland.

Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it.

The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.

Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.

“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”

Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot.

You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice.

“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”

Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder.

“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”

“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”

Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth.

Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth.

Fuck, you’re greedy as hell.

The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers.

Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.

Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.

You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you.

Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot.

You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next.

You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.

Suguru notices.

“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”

For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.

“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–”

Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment.

It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!

“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!

Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk.

Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud.

The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.

“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”

Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.

“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”

You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.

“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.”

At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.

“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”

“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”

Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull.

Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again.

Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.

Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive.

Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away.

Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.

“Stawwp–”

Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.

“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”

Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough.

The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy.

So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole.

Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt.

Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.

By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin.

Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties.

You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.

The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers.

“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”

You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru.

Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”

Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.

“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”

“–Oh it's you Suguru!”

You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him.

Willing yourself to sit up, your body is immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats.

Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock.

The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.

You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement.

You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.

You need to feel it. Now.

Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.

“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”

A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously.

“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”

Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience.

You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose.

Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.

“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”

You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.

“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”

You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.

“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!”

Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.

“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–”

Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.

He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.

Satoru could fuck off.

“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”

You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties.

Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.

“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”

You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you.

Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.

BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night.

If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this.

Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.

“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”

Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business.

You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years.

Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.

“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”

a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.

Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!

NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!

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cameronsbabydoll · 10 days ago

Note

could you write a fic with S4!Rafe x Bunny!Reader where they go to Sabrina Carpenter’s short and sweet tour and reader wears this and she doesn’t understand why rafe was being so protective of her while they were in the pit?

SUGAR AND SMOKE — ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

rafe cameron x bunny!reader

Rafe should’ve known better than to let you wear this in public.

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting the delicate lace of your dress, he had felt his stomach tighten. You looked like sugar—soft, sweet, impossible not to touch. The pale pink corset hugged your body too perfectly, tiny rhinestones catching the light as you twirled in front of him, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched. The heart-shaped cutout on the bodice only made things worse, a teasing glimpse of skin framed by shimmering sequins.

“Do you like it?” you had asked, wide-eyed, your voice as light as the ruffles at your thighs.

Rafe had loved it. But he had hated the idea of anyone else seeing you like this

And now, in the middle of a packed pit at Sabrina Carpenter’s concert, he was in hell.

You, of course, were completely unaware of the attention you were drawing. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist, your body pressed against his chest as you bounced to the music, lost in the dreamy atmosphere. Rafe, on the other hand, was hyper-aware of everything—the way guys kept glancing at you, the way some girl had whispered "she's so cute" while eyeing your outfit, the way you didn’t even notice.

His arm tightened around your waist as the crowd pushed in closer, and you looked up at him, confused.

"Rafe?" you murmured, tilting your head.

"Stay in front of me," he ordered, voice low, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "People are getting too close."

You blinked up at him, utterly clueless. "But—it’s just the pit, Rafe. Everyone’s close."

Yeah, and that was the problem.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into the soft fabric at your hip. He knew you didn’t get it, didn’t understand the way some of these guys were looking at you. The way they let their gazes linger a little too long, the way one of them had brushed against you just a second ago, his excuse hidden behind the sway of the crowd. Rafe had nearly swung on him right then and there.

Still, you just smiled up at him like nothing was wrong, letting his hand rest possessively on your waist as you turned back toward the stage, humming along to the music.

And then, of course, someone had to push his luck.

A girl standing next to you leaned in with a bright smile. "Oh my God, I love your outfit!" she gushed, eyes sparkling as she took in the rhinestones, the lace, the tiny details that made you look like a doll.

Your face lit up instantly, excitement bubbling in your chest. "Really? Thank you!" you beamed, your voice practically dripping with sugar. "I was worried it was too much, but it’s just so cute, right?"

"Are you kidding? You look adorable," the girl assured you.

Rafe felt his jaw clench.

You, completely oblivious to the way he was now gripping your waist a little too tightly, clapped your hands together. "That’s what I told Rafe!" you giggled, turning to look up at him. "I told you it was cute!"

Rafe, however, was too busy glaring at the girl like she’d just committed a crime. The compliment wasn’t the issue—it was the fact that now even more people were looking at you. Not just guys, but girls too, all admiring the way you looked like something out of a fairytale. His. Girl.

"You hear that, Rafe? I look adorable!" you repeated, bouncing slightly as you looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to agree.

Rafe barely acknowledged the other girl before he was tugging you closer, his fingers pressing against your lower back. "Yeah, bunny. I heard," he muttered, his voice tight.

The girl giggled at his grumpy tone, shooting you a knowing look before turning back to the concert. You, however, were still staring up at him, pout forming at his lack of enthusiasm.

"You’re being all grumpy," you huffed, lips pressing into a soft little pout. "Why?"

Rafe exhaled sharply through his nose, his hand smoothing over your hip before tugging at the bottom of your skirt, as if that would make it any longer. "You’re really askin’ me that?"

You blinked, confused. "Yeah…?"

He sighed, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Bunny, you’re standing in the middle of a packed crowd in that dress, looking like you were made to be touched," he murmured. "And you don’t get why I’m grumpy?"

Your cheeks warmed, a shiver running down your spine at his tone. But you still didn’t really get it.

"But it's just a cute dress," you murmured, looking down at the pastel pink fabric, fingers brushing over the lace. "It’s not that short…"

Rafe made a low, disbelieving noise in his throat before shaking his head. "Christ, bunny. You really don’t see it, do you?”

You peeked up at him, wide-eyed, and his grip on your waist tightened.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered. "You’re staying right here. No one’s touching you."

You blinked, then shrugged, satisfied with his answer. "Okay, Rafe," you hummed, pressing yourself against his chest, as if you weren’t already practically in his skin.

Rafe sighed, pressing a kiss to your temple before shifting his stance, his body forming a barrier around you. Because fuck no—you weren’t walking out of here looking like this for anyone else to see.

For now, though, he let you sway and sing as if the world around you wasn’t filled with people who didn’t deserve to even glance at his girl.

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bernardsbendystraws · 4 months ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝑩𝒆 𝑴𝒆

. . . where Bunny and Doll get a bit too close, leading Chris and Matt to feel more possessive.

warnings: FLUFF, possessive behavior, bitches bitching. pairings: Doll x Matt | Bunny x Chris notes: combined au with @muwapsturniolo

Pissed was an understatement.

Matt’s room was comfortably crowded, the four of you filling the room. Bunny and you were on his bed, cuddling just a little bit too close while Chris and Matt sat in front of the desk, staring at the computer with frustration only building.

“Your hair looks so pretty in this one!” you point out, analyzing one of the many, many pictures Bunny was showing you.

Bunny can’t help but nudge her head even closer, smiling at you as her face flushes with warmth. It’s just so sweet, so innocent.

Matt clears his throat obnoxiously. It’s a poor attempt at voicing his feelings and honestly – you had just ignored it at this point. Chris, however, isn’t as quiet.

Licking over his teeth, Chris glares at you. “Doll – you should give my girl some space.”

You peep your head up just the slightest, burning your eyes into him before settling on a blank look, lifting your hand to show him exactly how his statement makes you feel.

Chris shakes his head seeing you flip him off. He looks over to Matt, huffing as he rubs his hand over his face. “Do you see that? Kids fuckin’ flippin’ me off, being a–”

“Hey,” Matt spits, slapping Chris’ arm before he’s able to finish the not-so-nice words.

Bunny and you are now sitting up, giving both boys uninterested looks. They ruined your fun – the blissful moment that made the rest of the world disappear.

The boys speak in a hushed whisper. You look over to Bunny, seeing her face scrunch with judgement, relaxing as you realize – you’re making the same face.

“-a’ight,” Chris starts, clapping his hands together before patting his lap. Bunny squints her eyes at him. Hard. The daring gaze is softened as Chris cocks an eyebrow at her.

As you watch the interaction, you see Matt give you an innocent look, wordlessly asking the same question.

You feel your lips curl into a smile, your feet bouncing on the floor as you waddle over with the blanket still wrapped around your body. Matt laughs as you plop into his lap, positioning you comfortably as he swivels his desk chair to face the computer screen once more.

“--see?” you eavesdrop on Chris’ hushed voice, looking from the corner of your eye to see him rubbing Bunny’s hips, “-this is where you should be, yeah?”

Rolling your eyes, you feel Matt’s chest vibrate with a snicker. You shove your elbow back, making him sniffle the laughter.

“-’m sorry, sorry,” he breathes, trying to calm down and stop laughing. “-it’s just…you’re glarin’ at him for the same shit I do to you.”

Matt’s reasoning makes you fall silent. You lean further into him, watching as he clicks through the tabs on the computer screen.

“Well,” you hum as you feel him swaddle you even tighter in the blanket, “-’s different when you do it. You’re hot,” you reason.

Boneless giggles spill from his lips. Matt hugs you closer, kissing the crown of your head;

“I love you, Doll, but…me and Chris are identical.”

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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

Note

Hey!! I really REALLY love your girl dad Daryl series and I thought maybe I could request something :) Imagine Daryl building a doll house or something (maybe a cute little mini motorcycle) for his daughter I can totally see him doing something like that it’s all I can think about when I see this picture. He would totally get the materials from one of his supply runs because I headcanon that everytime he brings something for his daughter (like a doll or something)

His Motorcycle Princess | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When his daughter was born, Daryl swore to himself that he'd do everything in his power to ensure that she remained happy at all costs. So when she asked for her very own motorcycle, who was he to deny her that?

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (the bridge exploding doesn't happen, so Daryl never goes looking for Rick and he's happily living in Alexandria).

Warnings: Swearing, slight suggestive talk.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: Okay but why can't Daryl be the father of my future kids? He'd be the best dad ever. All jokes aside, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, may I ask what the fuck that is?” you asked in surprise at at the sight before you, folding your arms over your chest.

Daryl looked up from his workbench, his ocean coloured eyes meeting your eyes before glancing back down at the big pink object in front of him. “S'a toy bike,” he stated plainly, patting the toy for added effect.

“Okay,” you drawled, nodding your head slowly. “But... Why?”

“S'fer Hazel,” he explained, picking up a screwdriver and resuming his task of assembling the toy motorcycle. “She asked fer a bike like mine, but obviously I ain't 'bout to assemble a real one fer a five year old, so I got this instead.”

You walked down the steps into the garage and walked over to your husband, standing slightly behind him as you watched him tighten the screws of the toy. “Where'd you even get this?”

“I was lucky 'nough to find a toy store tha' was left relatively untouched. Found this hidin' behind one of the shelves,” he explained, glancing over to you and nervously gulping at the close proximity. It amazed him that even after so many years together, you still managed to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Aah, okay,” you nodded, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hazel is gonna freak out over this. This is gonna be her new favourite thing in the world.”

“Ya really think so?” Daryl asked, looking at you hopefully.

You smiled softly at him. There was lot of things people could say about the archer. People who didn't know him personally would call him rude, obnoxious and cold. Those who knew better would call him loyal, determined and caring. When it came to you, there was a lot you could say about your beautiful husband. He was kind, caring, loving, considerate, observant, and so much more. And you could also proudly say that Daryl was an amazing dad. Nobody was perfect and the archer had his moments that he wasn't proud of, but all in all, there was no denying that Daryl would do anything for your daughter.

“I know she'll love it,” you reassured him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You could bring her a painted rock and she'd love it. As long as it's from you, she doesn't care.”

“Nah, she hated tha' bunny I brought back fer her,” he replied, closing his eyes at the warm, soft feeling of you pressed against his back.

“It's only because it was covered in walker blood,” you explained. “After I washed it, she wouldn't let the thing go.”

Daryl couldn't deny that. The aforementioned toy had been a proud edition to Hazel's stuffed animal collection for two years at that point. She loved that bunny more than anything, favouring it to join her when she played tea parties with you and Daryl. It made the archer's heart swell with love, just knowing that his daughter appreciated what he did for her made everything worth it. All the battles he fought, all the blood that was shed, it was all worth it in the end. His wife and his daughter were safe, and he'd never been happier in his life than he was in those moments in the small home you shared in Alexandria.

With you still firmly pressed against his back, he got back to work. The toy was almost done; he only had a few finishing touches he had to do. Admittedly, it was a little harder to do so with you pressed against him from behind, but he refused to ask you to move. He'd much rather work on the toy for a few extra minutes than lose the comfort your mere touch brought him.

You watched his hands intently, your mind unwillingly wandering to a place that wasn't needed at that moment. However, you couldn't help it, the knowledge of what those hardworking hands could do in other activities taking over your senses.

“You know, this gives me deja vu,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah? How so?” Daryl asked, tightening the last screw into the toy.

“Remember back when you were building your own bike five years ago?” you asked, continuing when he nodded. “Seeing you hard at work, doing something you were skilled at really did something to me. It was because you were building your bike that we even have a kid at all now. And now you're building a motorcycle for our kid.”

Daryl chuckled at the memory. “Never knew grease could turn ya on like tha' until then.”

“When it's on my handsome husband's hands? You best believe it does.”

Daryl turned around and wrapped his arms around you, staring down at you lovingly. “And now we have our own kid.”

“Our own little family,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.”

“Mama! Daddy!”

Before Daryl could lean down and capture your lips in his for a kiss, your daughter bounded down the steps. The two of you sent each other an amused look, reluctantly pulling apart. Hazel came over to Daryl and held her hands up in a silent plea to be picked up, and the archer complied.

“Hey there, Hazelnut,” Daryl greeted her with a fond smile, placing a light kiss to the top of her head.

“Hi, Daddy,” she giggled, sending a wave at you. “Hi, Mama!”

“Hi, Baby,” you chuckled, walking over to rub her hair affectionately. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah! I'm ready to play now!” she exclaimed happily, a toothy smile on display.

“Well, how 'bout ya and I race our bikes?” Daryl questioned, capturing Hazel's attention.

“But Daddy, only you have a bike.”

“Not anymore,” you said in a playful tone, sharing an excited glance with the archer. “Daddy got you something.”

Daryl turned around with her in his arms and showed her the bright pink toy motorcycle. Hazel let out a surprised gasp before laughing in excitement, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed in excitement.

Daryl chuckled fondly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yer welcome, Hazelnut.”

“Now I can be like you!” she giggled, wiggling slightly to be put down. When she was, she ran over to the workbench and stared in awe at the toy.

“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to her to ensure she didn't accidentally hurt herself with the tools that were still on the workbench. “You just need your own crossbow now.”

Hazel gasped in delight and turned to Daryl. “Daddy, can I get a crossbow?”

“'Course ya can. How else would ya help me on my hunts?”

“Yay!” Hazel happily clapped her hands. “Mama, I'm getting a crossbow!”

Daryl smiled and walked over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and playfully ruffling Hazel's hair. He chuckled at the giggle she let out, feeling content and comfortable as he listened to Hazel's babbling as she regarded over all the places she would go with her very own motorcycle, even to the moon. There was nothing better in his life than moments like these. This was what he fought for. And he would do it all over again if it meant keeping the two most important people in his life safe.

Because without you, his beautiful wife, and Hazel, your perfect daughter, his life would never be the same.

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bunnis-monsters · 7 months ago

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🎃🎃MY OFFICIAL LIST FOR MY MONSTERTOBER EVENT🎃🎃

note: I will TRY to get to all of these, but if I feel like I can’t finish some, I’ll put up a poll so y’all can choose what I write

Oct1 legend of the driders(smut)🕸️

Oct2 vampire and werewolf fight over you(GONE SEXY) 🧛🏻🐺

Oct3 yan merman can’t let you go🧜‍♂️

Oct4 slime bf wants to be as close as possible~💧

Oct5 tentacle monster has a humanoid form?! 🐙

Oct6 yandere incubus 😈

Oct7 clingy haunted doll bf 🪡

Oct8 yan!vampire thinks you’re his reincarnated lover🧛🏻

Oct9 friend becomes a zombie then can’t help but breed you 🧟‍♂️

Oct10 baby bee hybrid Halloween special 🐝

Oct11 yandere witch makes you his pet 🧙

Oct12 werewolf chases you while you’re in a bunny costume 🐺🐰

Oct13 orc x bunny hybrid reader 🧌🐰

Oct14 shark hybrid bf going feral during your shark week🦈

Oct15 reader is the yearly sacrifice to appease the ghosts(smut) 👻

Oct16 cow hybrid!reader free use at a farm fall festival 🐮

Oct17 yandere lake monster 💦

Oct18 Yan!(maybe vampire)Scientist x experiment reader 🧪

Oct19 puppy hybrid bf breeds you at a costume party 🐶

Oct20 clown entity lonely after park shuts down, gets horny when you come to explore 🤡

Oct21 vampire milf gets you to babysit her kids then pays you with sexy times later 🧛🏻‍♀️

Oct22 yandere poltergeist falls for you (smut) 👻

Oct23 werewolf is witch!reader’s familiar 🧙

Oct24 Frankenstein’s monster? More like frankenstein’s moaner the way I’m bouncing on that wood 🤖

Oct25 protective headless horseman smut 🐴

Oct26 haunted house? Sentient scarecrow fucking? JINKIES 👹

Oct27 exploring haunted house with friends, get abandoned. Demons fuck you senseless 😈

Oct28 aliens take you for a breeding program 👽

Oct29 Gorgon lady turns you to stone and uses you to get off 🐍

Oct30 Naga’s first halloween 🐍

Oct31 Jack-o-lantern monster fun :3 🎃

#halloween with bunni #monster fucker #monster lover #monster fudger #monster boyfriend #monstertober #smutober #teratophillia #terat0philliac #teraphilia #terato #exophelia

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masorciereviolette · 14 days ago

Text

Undeniable Echos Of Us

Pairing: AU Agatha Harkness x Reader

Warnings: Soft Domestic Moments, Fluff, Reassurance, Comfort, Soft Agatha, Protective Agatha, Time Jumps, Happy Endings.

Word count: 13.3k

A/N: I hope you enjoy!! The first day of school and a sick day that were previously requested on ao3. I had to split the request to cover ground, so you got the previous part of the request posted first :))))

Summary: The following are the years that unfolds in a beautiful blur of chaotic and heart stopping milestones. Including Maeve’s first day at daycare, her fourth birthday party as well as her personality development up to age five. There’s definitely more but I’m not gonna spoil it all ;)

Taglist: @ambessas-doll @milflovers4 @graceful-witch07

Next Part In The Series

Returning to work after a year of diapers, midnight feedings, and whispered lullabies felt less like crossing a threshold and more like stepping off a cliff. You’d tried to prepare.

Packed Maeve’s daycare bag the night before—her bunny blanket, her favorite snacks, an extra pair of socks with the little stars on the toes that she liked. You’d laid her outfit out on the dresser: soft pink overalls, the white onesie with the tiny heart stitched over her chest, and the socks.

You told yourself it was fine. Normal. That this was healthy. That it was good for her to be around other kids, good for you and Agatha to return to your rhythms, your purpose, to something beyond nap schedules and the smell of formula on every shirt you owned. You told yourself that a thousand times. But all of that rational preparation disintegrated the second Maeve’s tiny fingers curled around your collar and refused to let go.

The daycare entryway was bright and cheerful, with little hand-painted murals of animals on the walls and a paper sun cut out above the coat hooks. The air smelled like apples and Lysol. A woman in a floral cardigan greeted you with a too-sunny smile, clipboards in hand, calm voice practiced.

“She’ll be just fine, really. Transitions are always a little bumpy at first.” You tried to answer. But your throat was too tight. Maeve clung to you with everything she had, her arms wrapped around your neck like vines, legs locked around your waist, face buried in your shoulder.

“Mama,” she whimpered, her voice wet and trembling. “No… no…” Your heart cracked so loudly you thought it might echo.

“I’m right here,” you breathed, trying to keep your voice steady. You pressed your forehead to hers, breathing her in, trying not to fall apart. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you for long. It’s just a little while, just a few hours. We’re coming back. I promise.”

Agatha stood behind you, normally so composed in her sharply tailored suit and heels, but today… she looked undone. Her shoulders were tight, her lips pressed thin, her hands shaking so slightly only you would’ve noticed.

Maeve had started crying the moment you stepped through the doors. Not loud. Not angry. Just… broken.

Confused.

Afraid.

“I can’t,” you whispered. “She’s not ready. She’s not ready, and neither am I.”

Agatha crouched beside you, her tone impossibly gentle. “She’s going to be okay,” she said, reaching out to brush Maeve’s curls back with a trembling hand. “Books, songs, other kids. She’ll boss them around in five minutes. You know she will.”

But her eyes were glassy. She wasn’t convincing you. She was convincing herself. Maeve lifted her head just enough to reach toward Agatha. Her little hand curled around Agatha’s fingers like a lifeline, her bottom lip trembling.

“Oh, baby,” Agatha murmured, her composure shattering as she gathered Maeve into her arms. “You’re going to be so brave, okay? Just for a little while. And I’ll be counting the minutes until I can pick you up. One by one.”

Maeve sobbed against her chest, tiny fists bunching the lapel of her coat, and Agatha held her close, eyes closed, swaying gently. You watched them through a blur, every muscle in your body screaming to reach for your daughter, to undo this, to call in sick and take her home and keep her little forever.

But you didn’t. Because this was what you’d prepared for. This was what came next. Even if it felt like your chest had been cracked open. Agatha kissed Maeve’s head one last time, then slowly, gently, turned to the daycare assistant and handed her over.

Maeve whimpered again, her eyes wide and tracking you both like the ground had been pulled out from under her. She didn’t scream. She didn’t thrash. But her silence—her small, shuddering breath—was somehow worse.

The assistant murmured softly to her, bouncing her lightly in her arms as she walked toward the play area. Maeve craned her neck, still watching you through the doorway as it slowly, painfully, swung shut.

The moment the door clicked behind you, you turned and buried your face in Agatha’s shoulder. “I hate this,” you mumbled, voice ragged.

“I know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around you, her own body shaking. “Me too.”

You held each other in the hallway of that bright, cheery building, surrounded by finger paintings and backpacks too small for anything useful, and let the ache settle into your bones.

Let it hurt. Because letting go just for a few hours—felt like letting go of a whole lifetime you weren’t ready to end. But this was love, too. The hard parts.

The necessary goodbyes that made room for the hellos waiting at the end of the day. And even though you hated every second of it—you knew you’d be back. Just a few hours later. The rest of the day passed in a fog—dense and slow and suffocating, like the world had been wrapped in cotton and left too far away to touch.

Your precinct felt louder than usual. The phones rang sharper, the coffee tasted burnt, and even the rhythm of your typing didn’t sound right anymore. Like something vital had been muted, just below the surface. You were back. Back in your chair, your title newly etched into the nameplate outside your office. Back in your element. But not really. Because your body was here, sure.

But your heart? Your heart was still at daycare, pressed against a glass window, watching your daughter cry as the door shut behind you. Your phone sat on the desk like a lifeline. You told yourself not to check it every five minutes. You checked it every three.

Between meetings, during coffee breaks, and once—shamelessly—while pretending to tie your shoe in the middle of the hallway just so no one would see the tremble in your fingers as you swiped down on your screen. Nothing. No updates. No photos. No panicked calls about inconsolable sobbing or sudden fevers. Just… silence.

By lunch, you hadn’t eaten more than a protein bar and a stolen bite of someone else’s bagel. Your stomach ached, but your hands wouldn’t stop twitching, like your body was stuck in a loop it didn’t know how to escape. That’s when your phone finally buzzed.

Aggie: I miss her more than I’ve missed anything ever. I keep looking at her picture like it’s a portal. You stared at the message for a full thirty seconds before your vision cleared enough to type.

You: I almost cried when I found a puff snack in my pocket. This is war.

The reply came fast. A photo. It was the same puff snack—slightly crumbled, wedged in the crease of Agatha’s leather handbag.

Aggie: They’re everywhere. We’re not safe.

You burst into quiet laughter that immediately cracked into something else—something wobbly and a little too tender. You pressed your thumb to the photo like you could feel her through the screen. Like you could reach across the hours and hold her hand. You stared at it longer than you meant to.

Not because of the snack. But because you could picture her perfectly—sitting behind her desk at the law office, heels kicked off under the table, hair slightly falling from its pins. That faint crease between her brows that only showed up when she was trying not to cry. And you realized—she was hurting just like you. This wasn’t easier for her. She was just better at hiding it.

You opened your camera roll and found a picture from two nights ago: Maeve asleep in Agatha’s arms, her thumb in her mouth, her hair tangled into Agatha’s collar, both of them breathing in perfect sync. You sent it without a caption.

A minute later, the typing bubbles appeared. Then stopped. Then came back, Finally, a message.

Aggie: I think we made the best thing in the world.

And for the first time since leaving that daycare, your chest finally loosened—just a little. Because you had. You’d made something perfect together. And no matter how hard today was, no matter how much it ached to be away—you’d made it through half the day.

The other half? You were going to fight your way through it, one snack crumb and blurry photo at a time. Together. By the time you pulled into the daycare parking lot that afternoon, your stomach had twisted itself into knots.

The day had moved slowly, achingly so—every hour dragging its feet. The guilt, the worry, the what-ifs. You had barely made it through your shift, still half-expecting a phone call telling you to come back, that Maeve hadn’t stopped crying, that you were needed.

But the call never came. And now, as you shut the car door behind you and jogged toward the front entrance, you saw Agatha already climbing the steps, her court heels clicking too quickly for someone normally so composed. She’d clearly gotten there just seconds ahead of you, her bun a little looser than it had been that morning strands of hair framing her sharp features, her blazer unbuttoned, crooked where it had slipped to the side in her obvious rush.

She glanced back and gave you a tight, breathless smile. “She probably thinks we left her forever,” she said, her voice cracking under the weight of her laugh. “She probably thinks we moved and forgot to bring her.”

You caught up to her in two strides and grabbed her hand, squeezing it once. “She probably got distracted by a shiny object and forgot we existed by noon.”

Agatha turned toward you slowly, scandalized. “Don’t say that. How dare you.”

You both stopped outside the classroom door, hearts racing, palms sweaty. You could hear the distant murmur of kids’ voices, a laugh, the clatter of plastic toys on linoleum. The door creaked open, and there she was. Maeve spotted you instantly. Her face transformed—eyes wide, mouth open, joy bursting through her in a full-body squeal.

“Mamamamama!” The sound hit you like a thunderclap.

She barreled forward in that unsteady, toddling run, her tiny shoes tapping out a frantic rhythm on the floor, her arms outstretched like she could leap right into both of you.

Agatha crouched just in time to catch her, falling back slightly as Maeve launched into her arms and gripped her shirt with little, desperate fists. “I missed you too, Squish” Agatha whispered, laughing as the tears spilled over, unbothered, unstoppable.

You dropped to your knees beside them, one hand on Maeve’s back, the other reaching to cup Agatha’s jaw. You kissed your daughter’s cheek, then pressed your forehead to Agatha’s temple, eyes squeezing shut.

Maeve babbled at a mile a minute, her hands patting at your collar, grabbing your earrings, then reaching for Agatha’s hair, like she needed to re-anchor herself to every inch of you. Like she was saying, You came back. You really came back.

“She’s okay,” you whispered, brushing her curls out of her face. “She’s really okay.”

Agatha nodded, though her throat was too tight to speak. The teacher watched from across the room with a soft smile, mouthing She did great, before stepping back to give you your moment. And in the middle of that chaos—Maeve clinging to you both, your heart barely holding it all together you knew

She survived the day.

So did you.

Barely.

You carried her out into the late afternoon light—her face flushed, her arms wrapped tight around your neck and followed Agatha to the parking lot. Her car sat two spots over from yours, both of you parked hastily and crooked, the way only worried parents do.

You lingered beside Agatha’s car while she opened the backseat, adjusting the car seat and brushing goldfish crumbs from the cushion. Maeve peeked over your shoulder to supervise the operation, one thumb wedged in her mouth and the other hand tangled in your shirt.

“I don’t want to drive away from her again tomorrow,” Agatha admitted quietly, eyes focused on the straps. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

You leaned your cheek against Maeve’s hair, voice thick. “We’ll do it together. Like we did today.”

Agatha looked up at you then, eyes tired but warm. She reached across the gap to brush your cheek, her thumb catching the last of your tears. “Same time tomorrow?” she asked.

You nodded. “Always.”

And as she buckled Maeve in and kissed her head for the third time in two minutes, you took one last look—at your wife, your daughter, the small miracle of having made it through.

The first of many goodbyes, the first of many returns. The hard ones, the necessary ones, the kind that hurt because they matter. The kind that prove love always circles back.

Always.

It started as a trickle. At first, you and Agatha were too buried in the day-to-day shuffle to notice, too busy juggling court dates and case files, daycare pickups, groceries, Nicholas’s school projects, and bedtime stories that always ran two pages too long.

You were just trying to survive the schedule. But slowly, in the quieter spaces between the chaos, something began to show.

A look.

A gesture.

A perfectly timed side-eye.

Maeve was watching you. And not just watching—absorbing you. It was Agatha who noticed it first. One sleepy Sunday morning over breakfast, Maeve dropped her spoon and folded her arms across her chest—elbows sharp, jaw locked, brow furrowed like a tiny lawyer in mid-argument.

“This,” she declared gravely, “is outrage.” You nearly choked on your coffee, coughing into your sleeve.

Agatha froze, blinked over the rim of her mug, then slowly turned toward you. “That’s me,” she said, both impressed and vaguely concerned.

You wiped your mouth. “No, no. That’s me when we run out of coffee pods.”

Agatha tilted her head. “The dramatics? That’s definitely me.” Across the table, Maeve had already moved on to inspecting her oatmeal with a wounded expression, as if it had personally betrayed her.

You and Agatha just sat there, dumbfounded, wondering when the mirror you’d accidentally made started learning how to talk back. Pickup at daycare became its own version of story time. There was always something—always a new quirk or surprise waiting in the doorway.

One Friday afternoon, you got there early. You’d wrapped your day up quicker than expected and found yourself driving on autopilot toward the daycare without thinking twice. The knot in your stomach—a familiar mix of love and longing—always loosened the moment you saw her.

You were barely through the door when the front desk aide, a woman named Lynn who’d taken a liking to Maeve from day one, caught your arm with a knowing grin. “She really is something else,” she said fondly.

You raised a cautious eyebrow. “What’d she do now?”

Lynn chuckled. “One of the new girls was crying during story circle. Maeve sat beside her, rubbed her back, and said—and I quote—‘Sometimes you cry it out. Then breathe. Keep going.’”

You blinked, your throat catching. That was you. Nearly word for word. You’d said that to Maeve once, on a night when her teeth hurt and the world was too loud and the only thing she could do was scream into your collar and clutch your shirt like it was the only thing keeping her here.

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. “She listens,” Lynn said softly, as if reading your mind. “To everything.”

Later that night, while you and Agatha curled up on the couch with Maeve passed out on your chest, you told her what happened. Agatha smiled, lips trembling just slightly. “She listening to everything. Even the things we don’t mean to teach her.”

You looked down at your daughter, warm and soft and impossibly small, and whispered into her curls, “No pressure, huh?”

By the time Maeve was three and a half, the pieces had become language. Actual words. Little declarations full of certainty and opinion—like she’d been waiting her whole life for her turn to speak.

It was a rushed Friday morning that cemented it. You were running late—again—your blazer wrung over your arm and your purse half-zipped, coffee forgotten on the counter. You’d kissed Maeve goodbye already, telling her to behave and be kind to the new kids.

Agatha was still in the bedroom getting ready. It was her week for drop-offs, and you’d agreed to handle the pickup that afternoon. All very civilized. Maeve stood near the hallway in a ridiculous ensemble of her own choosing: a structured jacket clearly borrowed from Nicholas, a tutu beneath it, purple leggings, and sparkly shoes that didn’t match. She had one hand on her hip and the other gripping a juice box like it was a gavel.

Then she called out, loud and firm, toward the bedroom “Let’s go. The courtroom waits!”

You froze. Then blinked. Then burst into full-bodied, hysterical laughter. “Oh my god,” you gasped, bracing yourself against the kitchen counter. “She’s quoting you!”

Agatha emerged from the bedroom, mid-buttoning her blouse, a stunned smile stretching across her face. She stared at Maeve for a second—posture, tone, shoes and all, then let out a shaky breath.

“No,” she said softly, grinning. “She is me. Look at that posture.” You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your keys. Maeve, meanwhile, sipped her juice calmly, utterly unaware that she had just rewritten the rest of your lives.

And from that moment on, you both knew Maeve wasn’t just becoming her own person. She was becoming you. Little pieces. Subtle mannerisms. Sarcastic comments said with too much timing for it to be coincidence. Empathy that stretched far beyond her age. Curiosity so sharp it cut.

She was all of it. The best parts of you, the boldest parts of Agatha, all tangled together in a tiny human body with jelly-stained fingers and colorful pins in her hair. Apparently she was only just getting started.

It started with glitter…..Not the tasteful kind. Not the light shimmer of responsibly used craft glue. No, this was glitter warfare—the kind of sparkle that invaded your clothes, your furniture, your hair follicles. The kind that would haunt you well into the next decade.

You stared down at your phone, blinking at the chaotic Pinterest board Maeve had “helped” create. Helped, of course, meaning she’d pointed at every unicorn, rainbow, and spark-shooting cake with the unyielding decisiveness of a tiny dictator.

“That one!” she’d shouted, breathless with excitement, every time a new pastel monstrosity loaded on the screen. “And that one! And that one but with more purple!”

Now, surrounded by a battlefield of streamers, metallic balloons, and party favors that looked like they’d been vomited on by a unicorn with a glitter intolerance, you sighed and held up a sequined banner that sparkled so violently it nearly blinded you.

“I think we’ve gone too far,” you muttered, squinting as it reflected a laser beam of light into your eye. Agatha didn’t look up from her laptop—her glasses sliding down her nose as she typed out a work email with the practiced speed of someone who was clearly multi-tasking for survival.

“Too far?” she repeated, one perfectly arched brow lifting with precision. “Darling, we passed ‘too far’ when she asked if the cake could explode with sparkles. Literal pyrotechnics.”

You groaned and slumped back against the dining room chair. “It’s a fourth birthday party, not the Met Gala.”

Agatha finally looked up, her smirk slow and smug. “She’s ours. Of course it’s both.”

You gestured helplessly to the piles of iridescent confetti and the unicorn piñata currently looming in the corner like a pastel surveillance drone. “Do you think she’s aware that some of these things are logistically impossible?”

Agatha shrugged, returning her focus to the screen. “She believes in magic. And that we can pull off anything with enough duct tape and sarcasm. Again—she’s ours.”

“She asked if the bouncy castle could have chandeliers inside,” you deadpanned.

“To be fair, I said no.” You stared at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Eventually,” Agatha added, sipping from her wine glass.

You stood and grabbed the glitter banner with the kind of weary resignation that only a parent attempting to meet toddler expectations could understand. “I hope you know you’re truly enabling her.”

“She calls me her ‘boss mama,’” Agatha said without apology. “I consider it a professional title.”

You dropped the banner dramatically onto the table. “God help her future prom committee.”

Agatha didn’t miss a beat. “She’ll run the committee.”

“Or by fear.”

“She’ll negotiate first. Then rule by sheer charisma.”

You leaned across the table, stealing a grape from the snack tray between you. “Do you think if we just… made her a cupcake and gave her a balloon, she’d notice the difference?”

Agatha blinked at you. “Do you want to break her heart on her birthday?”

You sighed. “Fine. Unicorn gala it is.”

Just then, a voice echoed from the hallway, high and delighted. “Momma!? What about the glitter cannon?!”

You and Agatha shared a slow, mutual look of horror. Agatha closed her laptop with a resigned snap. “That’s your side of the family.” And with a deep breath, you dove headfirst back into the glitter storm, half-laughing, half-panicking, and entirely wrapped in the chaos of raising the world’s most fabulous four-year-old.

There would be cake, there would be tears. There would be sparkle in places you’d never be able to clean. But most of all? There would be joy. Because she was yours and this was her world. You were just living in it—with confetti in your shoes.

The week leading up to the party was a whirlwind of checklists, glitter-stained hands, and far too many Target runs. You and Agatha had started with one cart. By midweek, you were both sprinting down separate aisles with your phones on speaker yelling, “Did you get the balloons or the juice boxes?!” while Maeve dramatically wept over a unicorn tiara that “didn’t sparkle enough.”

The living room became a war zone. Crayons on every surface, bits of ribbon clinging to the baseboards, and confetti creeping into your socks. You could barely sit on the couch without a plastic crown poking you in the thigh.

Maeve, in full party-planner mode, took the job of making the invitations very seriously. She sat at the table every night with a pile of cardstock, a mountain of star-shaped stickers, and exactly zero regard for spatial organization.

Some cards had a star in every corner. Others had scribbled rainbows, smeared glue, and indecipherable messages that looked like coded runes. She’d hum to herself as she worked, tongue poking out of the side of her mouth, fully immersed.

You tried, once, to throw away one that had dried juice running through the center and three clumps of chewed sticker edges stuck to the back. Agatha caught you red-handed. “She worked very hard on those,” she said, voice calm but edged with warning.

You held the sticky card between two fingers like it might explode. “This one looks like it survived a natural disaster.”

“She’s three,” Agatha said, not looking up from tying pastel ribbon into neat bows. “That’s called expressionism.”

You stared at the card again. “Alice and Jen do not need a glue-covered abstract jellyfish.”

“They’ll frame it,” Agatha replied with zero irony. And knowing them? They probably would. Alice and Jen were the first to RSVP. Not only did they respond within minutes, but Alice also texted: Can we bring anything? Prosecco? Band-Aids? Both?

Then came the cascade of names from Maeve’s pre-K class: Remy, Delilah, Charlie, Lily, twins named Harper and Hudson who Maeve insisted were her “minions,” and a boy named Julian who, according to her, “smelled like markers but in a good way.”

Every morning, more little rainbow cards were stuffed into backpacks with careful instructions whispered by Maeve as you zipped her coat “Tell Remy she can’t wear her sparkle boots. And you have tell Julian he’s not allowed to eat the glue at this party.” You didn’t even ask.

The night before the party, the house looked like Barney exploded. Streamers crisscrossed from wall to wall, tape barely hanging on. Half-inflated balloons littered the floor in varying stages of deflation. The kitchen table was buried under tissue paper and snack bags, and the dining room chairs were now just platforms for piles of favors and capes.

You stood in the middle of it all, hair pulled back and sleeves rolled up, holding a unicorn piñata with one horn significantly lower than the other. “This guy looks drunk.”

Agatha, barefoot and determined, tied a final ribbon to a stack of glittery gift bags. “He’ll be decapitated by toddlers by noon. Let him live his truth.”

From the hallway, Nicholas emerged—five feet of sarcasm and preteen ambivalence—dragging his hoodie sleeves over his hands. He paused in the doorway, looking around the room like he’d stumbled into a very sparkly fever dream. “You guys look like you’re planning a preschool heist.”

Agatha didn’t even blink. “We are.”

Nicholas snorted. “What’s the target? Cupcakes? Control of the glitter cartel?”

She stood tall, hands on her hips. “Joy. Pure, unfiltered joy. And maybe some themed napkins.”

You glanced over from the couch, where you were currently untangling a string of fairy lights from a slinky and what looked suspiciously like a half-eaten sticker. “You want in, kid? We could use some help.”

Nicholas grinned, walking over to plop down beside you. “Only if I get hazard pay. This much purple glitter feels like a health risk.”

You reached over and ruffled his curls, earning a dramatic groan. “Consider it a bonding opportunity. You were her age, like, ten minutes ago.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was never into glitter.”

From across the room, Agatha held up a photo on her phone: a much-younger Nicholas in a tutu and a tiara, covered head-to-toe in fairy dust. His eyes went wide. “Okay, *first of all—that was entrapment.”

Maeve, from the hallway, peeked in and gasped with glee. “You have a tiara photo?! Mommy, show me!”Nicholas flopped onto the carpet face-first.

Agatha beamed. “Welcome to siblinghood.” And the night continued like that, with laughter echoing through your too-small living room. With frosting on the countertops and plans scribbled across sticky notes.

With a family made not just of blood, but of joy and effort and love, party was coming. The chaos was just beginning. But in that moment—surrounded by crooked unicorn horns, lopsided balloons, and people who would do anything for one little girl—It already felt like a celebration.

The House had transformed overnight. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling like magical vines. A large banner in pastel bubble letters. A table by the window held an impressive spread of snacks, fruit kabobs, juice boxes, and a unicorn-shaped cake that took you three YouTube tutorials and a near mental breakdown to frost.

Maeve wore a tutu so full it bounced with every step, sparkly wings that glittered with every turn of her shoulders, and a tiny crown that had already slipped halfway down her forehead by the time the first guests arrived.

She didn’t seem to notice—or care. “I’m four now!” she declared proudly to every single person who walked through the front door, arms flung wide like she was announcing the new age of an empire.

Alice arrived with a rainbow gift bag dangling from one hand and her son, Milo, perched on her hip—his waves sticking out in all directions and one shoe suspiciously missing. He had a crayon in his mouth like it was a cigar and a look that said he’d already lived through several lifetimes in the car seat.

“I come bearing chaos,” Alice announced.

You stepped forward and hugged her tightly. “You’re late,” you whispered into her hair.

“I brought caffeine,” she whispered back.

All was forgiven. Jen followed a moment later, one hand on the diaper bag and the other holding two travel mugs. “We brought extra napkins, wet wipes, and ibuprofen,” she said dryly as she handed you one of the coffees. “We come prepared.”

You stared at her like she’d descended from the heavens. “You’re my favorite person right now.”

She shrugged modestly. “I try.” The living room transformed in minutes—music playing just low enough to avoid a headache, voices stacking on top of each other, little feet darting between parents, crashing into balloons and chasing each other around the coffee table.

Nicholas took on big brother duty like a seasoned professional—pointing out where the bathroom was, helping kids find lost shoes, and redirecting them from high-risk zones like electrical outlets and Agatha’s bookshelf of ancient legal tomes.

Agatha flitted from group to group with the grace of someone who had argued in federal court and planned enough parties to know how to make everyone feel like they belonged—even if they were three feet tall and had frosting on their fingers.

You caught her crouched at one point, laughing with a group of kids as they tried to stick foam unicorn horns to her forehead. She let them. Smiled through it. When Maeve declared her “Queen of the Birthday Castle,” she straightened her posture and announced, “Then I shall decree extra cupcakes for all!”

They cheered like it was law. From across the room, you watched her—your wife, your best friend, your chaos partner in all things glitter—and caught her staring right back at you. Her eyes were soft, amused, overflowing with love. She lifted her juice box in a slow, dramatic toast. You raised your coffee mug in return.

Marriage.

It happened somewhere between the third round of pin-the-horn-on-the-unicorn and the impromptu hallway singalong led by a group of sugar-fueled toddlers who couldn’t quite agree on the lyrics. You stood near the snack table, brushing crumbs from your shirt, watching Maeve spin in dizzy, delighted circles. Her wings flapped like she believed they could lift her off the ground, and her giggles rang out like music—bright and alive and full of light.

“She’s glowing,” you whispered. A moment later, you felt Agatha beside you. She slid her hand into yours without needing to look, her thumb brushing gently along the back of yours as she followed your gaze. “Look at her,” you murmured.

“I do,” Agatha whispered, voice full and thick with awe. “She’s the sun.”

You looked at your daughter—radiant, fearless, sparkling. And then you looked at Agatha. Her lashes were damp, her smile quiet and stretched soft across her lips. “She’s ours,” you breathed.

Agatha turned toward you. Her hand found your cheek, just for a moment, thumb grazing the skin like she couldn’t quite believe you were real either. “We made that,” she said softly. “We made her.”

Your throat tightened, you didn’t cry. But God, it was close. So you leaned into her side instead, shoulder to shoulder, as Maeve launched herself into another spin and nearly collided with a balloon arch. “She’s going to remember this forever,” you whispered.

“She’s going to rewrite every definition of joy,” Agatha replied. And in that moment—with her hand in yours and your daughter twirling like a whirlwind made of sugar and stardust—you believed it.

Later, after the last favor bag had been claimed, the last juice box emptied, and the final balloon surrendered its battle with gravity, the living room looked like the aftermath of a glitter-fueled revolution.

Confetti blanketed the floor like tiny pastel snowdrifts. Streamers hung half-fallen from the ceiling, clinging desperately to tape that had long since given up. Crushed cupcake liners were scattered near the snack table, along with two party hats that had clearly been through war. One lone unicorn balloon bobbed gently near the hallway, tangled in ribbon and regret.

In the center of the chaos lay Maeve—curled up on the couch in her now-wrinkled party outfit, her sparkly wings askew, her tiny crown tilted so far to one side it nearly covered her eyebrow. Her cheeks were still pink from running around, her curls frizzed from static and excitement.

She blinked sleepily at you as you knelt beside the couch, your knees landing with the heavy thud of a parent who had given everything that day. “Did you have fun, birthday girl?” you asked, brushing a curl from her cheek.

She nodded, thumb already halfway to her mouth. “Mmmhmm.”

Agatha crouched beside you, letting out a long breath as she tucked the slipping crown back into place. “Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

Maeve blinked at her, then pulled her thumb out just long enough to whisper, “Better.”

You and Agatha shared a look that said worth it. Every ounce of chaos. Every hour of planning. Every crumb and glitter flake still embedded in the floorboards. It had all been worth it.

You carried Maeve to bed together, one arm behind her head, the other under her knees. She didn’t stir, just mumbled something about cake and held tighter to the plush unicorn tucked beneath her arm. You laid her down gently, pulling the blankets over her, careful not to dislodge the glitter tangled in her curls. She smelled like frosting and sleep. Her breathing evened out in seconds.

Agatha leaned down and kissed her forehead. You followed with one to her cheek. As you turned out the light and closed the door behind you, the silence of the house hit all at once—thick, heavy, peaceful.

Back in the living room, the mess felt almost insurmountable. Wrapping paper was still piled in corners. Crumbs dusted the coffee table. Ribbons and popped balloons littered the floor. You started to bend down to gather a handful of paper plates when Agatha’s voice stopped you. “Don’t,” she said softly.

You looked over. She had already sunk onto the couch, her body stretched out across the cushions, one arm draped behind her head. Her shoes were off, her blouse untucked, and she looked like every bone in her body had finally exhaled. She lifted one hand toward you, wiggling her fingers. “Come here.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the wreckage. “I should at least clear the—”

“No,” she interrupted gently, her voice like velvet. “Let it wait.” You opened your mouth to protest again, but the way she looked at you—soft, tired, full of love—cut you off. “Just lay with me,” she whispered. “We did it. She had the best day of her life. Everything else can wait till morning.”

You crossed the room in a few quiet steps, letting her pull you down on top of her. She curled an arm around your waist as you shifted against her, sighing as your body finally gave in to the fatigue you’d been pushing through all day.

Your head rested against her chest, her fingers brushing up and down your arm. The sound of her heartbeat was steady and warm, grounding you as your breathing slowed. The house around you was a disaster. But in that moment, wrapped in her arms, nothing else mattered.

You closed your eyes, the scent of frosting and fabric softener still hanging in the air, the echo of laughter tucked somewhere deep in your chest. Agatha pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring, “You give her magic. You know that?”

You smiled against her. “So do you.”

Another kiss. “Then we’ll keep giving it. Every year. Every mess.” And in the middle of the glitter, the crumbs, the love—you let go of everything else. You let the mess be messy, you let the joy be enough. And with her heartbeat in your ear and her arms holding you still—you let yourself sleep.

Exactly one week after the party, it was Agatha’s turn for pickup. You had meetings back-to-back and had texted her in a rush between them: Tag, you’re it. She didn’t complain. Just sent a thumbs-up and a heart, followed ten minutes later by: Let’s see what kind of chaos she’s brewed today.

When she returned home, the front door opened with a flourish, and Maeve burst inside in a whirlwind of glitter-speckled energy and triumph. “I conquered snack time!” she announced to the hallway, arms spread wide like she’d just led a victorious siege.

Agatha followed behind her with a tired grin and a slight shake of her head. She still hadn’t taken off her heels or coat, but she was laughing softly, the car keys swinging from her finger. “She told one of her teachers her apple slices were, quote, ‘a bit underwhelming, but she would persevere.’”

You looked up from the couch, blinking once. “That’s… definitely you.”

Agatha smirked and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “Apparently she also reorganized the art corner. Said the crayons were, and I quote again, ‘emotionally chaotic.’”

You snorted into your palm. “That’s absolutely you.”

Maeve, still twirling in the middle of the living room like a dramatic princess who’d just hosted a tea summit, threw her arms into the air. “I did it all by myself!”

“Yes, you did,” Agatha said, walking past and plucking Maeve’s glittery backpack off her shoulders with practiced ease. “And I have a very emotionally balanced finger painting to prove it.”

Maeve beamed with pride as she plopped down onto the rug, kicking off her shoes and humming under her breath. You watched her for a long moment—her curls, her confidence, the absolute surety in her every move. She wasn’t even five, and already she radiated purpose.

“She’s only four—” you whispered, half in awe, your voice catching just a little in your throat. “And she’s gonna run the world.”

Agatha had just hung her coat by the door. She paused, turned slightly, and looked at you—eyes soft, full of something deeper. “She already runs mine,” she said quietly.

Nicholas had grown, too. You’d blinked, and suddenly he was nearly taller than both of you—more limbs than coordination, shoulders getting broader by the day, voice in that strange in-between phase where it crackled unpredictably and caught him by surprise.

He was quieter now. Not distant. Just thoughtful in a way that pulled him inward more often than before. You’d find him curled on the couch with a sketchbook, headphones around his neck but no music playing, pencil tapping against the page as he doodled in the margins of half-finished homework.

He still played with Maeve—still made her laugh so hard she hiccupped and fell over. But now he also lingered longer in his room, and sometimes when you called him for dinner, it took a moment before he came out, like he’d been deep underwater and needed a second to break the surface.

One evening, after a long, messy dinner that involved chicken nuggets, spilled milk, and a full-fledged debate between Maeve and Agatha about whether unicorns needed lawyers, Nicholas stood beside you at the sink, helping dry dishes. He was quiet at first, passing plates and wiping them carefully. Then, softly “Do you think I’ll still be cool to her when she’s a teenager?”

You paused, the plate in your hands still dripping. “She already thinks you’re the coolest person on earth,” you said gently.

Nicholas frowned. “Yeah, but… what if she doesn’t? Later, I mean.” You looked over at him—at the boy with the artist’s hands and too much kindness in his eyes and saw the unspoken fear behind the question. That ache of change. That knowledge that Maeve wouldn’t stay little forever, and neither would he.

Agatha stepped into the kitchen then, still holding Maeve on her hip, the little girl half-asleep from the day’s adventures. She kissed the top of Nicholas’s head in passing and handed him a dish towel. “If she ever forgets,” Agatha said quietly, mussing his hair with affection, “you just keep showing up. That’s what brothers do.”

Nicholas looked down, face flushed, then nodded slowly. “Okay.” You caught Agatha’s gaze over his shoulder and saw it there—the quiet pride, the knowing sadness, the deep, endless love for a boy who was growing up right before your eyes.

He handed you the last clean plate, now dry and warm from his hands. And for one perfect moment, everything felt full, not loud, not flashy. Just full. Of change. Of growth. Of all the little lives you were building side by side.

By the time kindergarten came, Maeve was no longer just a spark—she was a full-blown flame. Confident. Curious. Unapologetically herself. She radiated that rare, uncanny mix of Agatha’s poised elegance and your steady warmth, moving through the world like she belonged in every room she entered. As if no part of it could surprise her. As if she was already thinking three steps ahead.

You should’ve known drop-off wouldn’t go the way you’d imagined—not a clinging goodbye or a tearful glance back. No. Maeve approached the school gates like a seasoned diplomat on her way to a treaty meeting.

Her backpack was nearly the size of her torso, a bright pink canvas covered in hand-sewn patches and crooked keychains she insisted on keeping—“for decoration.” Her shoes sparkled with silver sequins and bore tiny doodles Maeve had drawn herself with a marker she’d stolen from Nicholas’s desk. Her jacket was too big, the sleeves slightly rolled, and her hair—God, her hair—was braided just the way she liked it, with three glittery clips along the side, tied expertly by Nicholas that morning after insisting he “had the touch.”

You crouched beside her to zip her coat, your fingers brushing against the soft lining. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, eyes darting to the crowd of children gathering near the entrance. You blinked hard, swallowing the knot in your throat. Agatha stood behind you, dressed for work, scarf looped neatly around her neck, one hand gently pressed to the center of your back. A steadying anchor in a moment that felt like it might send you adrift.

“Are you ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you tugged the zipper to her chin. Maeve’s eyes swept across the sea of tiny humans swarming around the front lawn. She crossed her arms, weight shifting to one hip with a confidence that didn’t seem possible in someone so small.

“Yes,” she said with a firm nod. “I’m going to make four friends today. Maybe five. And maybe start a club. But only if the snacks are good.”

Behind you, Agatha snorted, muffling it quickly into her scarf. You bit your lip to keep from laughing and leaned forward to press a kiss to Maeve’s forehead, your lips lingering just a second longer than usual.

You inhaled the scent of her shampoo—something fruity and floral and entirely her. “We’ll be back as soon as school’s done,” you whispered, trying to sound steady. “Okay?”

Maeve looked up at you, eyes wide and unshakably serious. “I know. I trust you.”

She meant it, fully. Completely. And then, without fanfare, without hesitation, she turned—And ran. Straight for the doors. Her backpack bounced with each step, her sparkly shoes flashing like she was leaving a trail of stardust in her wake. She didn’t look back. Not even once.

You stayed rooted to the spot, your knees still bent, your hand clenched in the air like you might call her back if you just whispered her name. The doors swallowed her whole.

Silence settled between you and Agatha, loud and soft all at once. You stood slowly, your shoulders tight, tears threatening the edges of your vision.

Agatha stepped closer, and you leaned into her without thinking, your temple brushing against her cheek, your hand still gripped tight in hers. “She’s so much like you,” you said softly, voice breaking in the middle.

Agatha’s lips curved into a smile you couldn’t see but felt all the same. She turned toward you just enough to press a kiss to your hair, lingering there for a long, quiet moment. “No, darling,” she murmured. “Like us.” And somehow, that made it easier.

Because she wasn’t just a piece of one of you—she was the best of both. She was your courage and Agatha’s fire. Your steadiness and her sharp wit. She was wild and tender and entirely her own, but rooted in the love that built her.

You squeezed Agatha’s hand one more time before finally turning back toward the car, your steps a little lighter now, your heart still aching—but full. Because letting her go meant trusting what you’d given her. And what you’d given her… was everything.

It was just past noon when the knock came at your office door—sharp, confident, and unmistakably Agatha. You didn’t even glance up from your report. “If that’s another form that needs signing, I swear on everything holy, I’m throwing it out the window.”The door creaked open anyway.

“I brought congratulations,” came Agatha’s voice, smooth as ever, silk-wrapped mischief in every syllable.

You blinked. And then looked up. She was standing in the doorway like she owned the building—black slacks pressed sharp, navy coat open just enough to reveal the edge of a silk blouse beneath, hair tucked neatly behind one ear, and a take out bag in one hand like it belonged in a courtroom exhibit instead to be consumed on a lunch break.

She looked less like someone delivering takeout and more like someone who had just out-argued a judge and decided to reward herself…….with you. Your brow lifted. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she said innocently, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her with her heel. “And by ‘neighborhood,’ I mean I canceled a meeting and told my associate I had urgent matters of the heart.” You gave her a look, she only smiled.

“And,” she added, crossing the room with the sway of someone who knew exactly how her presence derailed you, “I thought my newly-promoted lieutenant wife could use a hot lunch and some enthusiastic praise.”

You groaned, standing up from your desk as she placed the paper bag down. “You’re not seriously making a thing out of this.”

Agatha looked positively delighted. “Oh no. It’s already a thing. I’m just adding snacks to the celebration.”

You opened the bag and the scent hit you instantly—your favorite sandwich, still warm, with a side of the exact chips you always pretended not to eat but always did. A small, folded napkin sat on top with your name scribbled on it in Agatha’s handwriting, complete with a tiny heart in the corner. Your smile was soft and inevitable. “Okay, you get points for attention to detail.”

“I should,” she said smugly. “I’ve been studying you for years.”

You sat back on the edge of the desk, unwrapping the sandwich while shaking your head. “It’s just a promotion. I didn’t pull five kittens out of a burning building.”

“No,” Agatha replied, taking a step closer, “you earned a leadership role after years of navigating the broken systems of this city. You’ve protected strangers. You’ve run headfirst into danger. You’ve come home bruised and exhausted and still held our babies like the sun rose and set in their eyes.” She leaned in and placed a hand gently on your chest. “That’s not small. That’s not just anything.”

You exhaled, the weight of her words hitting harder than you’d expected. “It’s just… after watching Maeve walk into school this morning like she owned the world, everything else kind of faded. My chest still hurts from that.”

Agatha’s hand moved from your chest to your shoulder, grounding you. “You think your accomplishments matter less now that our daughter’s in kindergarten?”

You gave a weak shrug. “I think the spotlight’s moved, that’s all. And maybe that’s okay.” Agatha didn’t speak right away, she just watched you.

And then, with deliberate grace, she stepped between your knees, her hands rising to cradle your face. “Hey,” she said softly. “Look at me.” You did and she kissed you.

It wasn’t a hesitant kiss, or a quick kiss meant to reassure. It was steady. Certain. One of those kisses that folded time in half and reminded you who you were underneath the titles and the exhaustion. Her hands were warm against your jaw, her thumbs brushing your skin like she was drawing invisible stars.

When she pulled back, her eyes were shining. “You are still you,” she whispered. “Mother, yes. Wife, yes. But you’re also a force of your own. And today, that force got promoted. And I get to love her.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Okay,” you murmured, your voice thick with affection. “Maybe it’s kind of a big deal.”

Agatha smiled. “Exactly.”

You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her into a full embrace, burying your face in the crook of her neck. “Thank you for showing up.”

“I’ll always show up for you bunny,” she said into your hair. “In heels, if I must. And with provisions preferably.”

You laughed, muffled by her blouse. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” she murmured. “Now eat. You’ve got justice to serve and crumbs to drop all over your self.”

You both moved to sit on the couch, knees touching, eating lunch as the soft murmur of the precinct moved just beyond your door. Outside, the world spun—fast and loud and demanding. But in here? It was just you and Agatha.

The woman who celebrated you even when you forgot how. The woman who knew every version of you, and loved each one just as fiercely. And as she stole a chip out of your bag with a satisfied grin, you reached over and laced your fingers with hers. Because no matter how far life moved forward… You’d never stop making room for each other. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

Fridays had a rhythm. The slow hum of Maeve’s sleepy grumbling as Agatha gently coaxed her out of bed. Nicholas slumping into the kitchen already half-dressed, hair still wild, offering a grunted “morning” in exchange for toast. Agatha’s heels clicking softly down the hall as she juggled coffee, court notes, and juice pouches.

And you—usually in sync with it all. But today, something was off. You stood in front of the bathroom sink, one hand braced against the cold porcelain as the other hovered near your forehead.

You hadn’t dared grab the thermometer—confirmation would make it real. Instead, you blinked at your paled reflection and swallowed hard, trying to ignore the burning in your chest, the heavy throb behind your eyes, and the shiver in your spine that hadn’t stopped since you got out of bed.

You felt like hell. But today wasn’t an option. This case had been building for months—layers of red tape, long hours, and enough pressure from city hall to crack concrete. The mayor was breathing down your captain’s neck, and in turn, yours. There were depositions scheduled, a witness to prep, and a mountain of files that still needed cross-referencing.

You couldn’t miss today. So you did what you did best—you compartmentalized. Splashed cold water on your face. Brushed your teeth slower than normal to keep from gagging. Ignored the way your limbs felt disconnected from your body.

From the hallway, you heard Agatha’s voice, muffled but moving closer. “Bunny love, have you seen my case files from Wednesday? I think I left them in—wait, is the bathroom door locked?”

Panic tightened your chest. You cleared your throat, forcing something steady. “I’m in here! Almost done!”

Pause. Agatha was silent for a beat too long. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you called back, too quickly. “Just… running behind.”

“Okay…” Her voice sounded hesitant now, a question laced behind the word. “Don’t forget to eat something.”

You shut your eyes. You couldn’t let her see you like this. “I will,” you said, reaching for your shirt with shaky fingers. “Love you!”

From down the hall, you heard Maeve’s voice, high and bright: “BYE MAMA!”

Nicholas mumbled something about going to spending the night at a friends tonight, and the front door creaked open. Agatha lingered just a moment longer. Then “Love you more. See you tonight.” The door shut behind them. You exhaled—long and shaky—and braced yourself on the counter once more.

You made it through the morning on sheer willpower. And caffeine. And—if you were honest—pure adrenaline and spite. But by lunch, you were crashing. Hard. Your skin felt too tight. Your head was pounding with every heartbeat. The room tilted slightly every time you stood up.

You’d answered the same email three times before realizing you hadn’t hit send. Someone had asked you a question, and you weren’t sure if you’d nodded or actually responded out loud. The fever was no longer a quiet burn. It was a full wildfire now. You leaned back in your chair, trying to will the world to stop spinning.

That’s when your office door opened again.“I come bearing food,” came a voice you hadn’t expected—and dreaded, all at once.

You blinked, eyes struggling to focus. Agatha stood there in the doorway—coat unbuttoned, scarf loosely hanging, lunch bag in hand. Her smile faded the second she saw you. “Jesus Christ,” she breathed, already crossing the room.

You sat up straighter, like that could hide how wrecked you were. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I had a feeling,” she muttered, setting the food down without looking. She reached out, fingers brushing your cheek. Her jaw tightened. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.” You tried

“You’re a terrible liar.” You opened your mouth again, but your body betrayed you—shoulders slumping, breath catching, a tremor running through your hands. She caught both of them in hers and stared at you like you’d just broken her heart.

“I knew something was wrong this morning,” she whispered. “You were too quiet. You didn’t even say goodbye to bug properly.”

“I couldn’t—if I did, you would’ve known.”

“I always know,” she snapped, voice cracking. “I just didn’t know how bad.”

Silence settled. You dropped your eyes. “Aggie, I have to finish this case.”

“No,” she said softly. “You don’t. Not today.”

She took a slow step closer, brushing the hair from your forehead with fingers that trembled just slightly. Her expression was fierce, loving, desperate. “If you collapse in this precinct, do you think anyone’s going to give a damn about your case notes?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. So when she reached down and gently tugged your coat from the chair, you let her. She wrapped it around you and whispered, “Come home,” crouching beside you and pleading softly , “Please let me take care of you,” your last ounce of pride dissolved. You nodded.

She helped you stand, steadying your weight with both arms around your waist. And as she guided you out of the office, one step at a time, your body limp against hers, you closed your eyes and leaned into her. Because she was right. She always knew when to push, and when to pull you back in. And when your strength gave out, hers always rose to meet it.

Agatha didn’t give you a choice about the car. The second she helped you out of your chair, her voice left no room for debate. “I’m driving. You’re not getting behind the wheel like this.”

You tried to argue—you really did. Something about it being just a short drive, that your car was already in the lot, that it was fine. But she turned her head slowly, her stare flat, voice cold as winter rain. “You’re running a fever high enough to make your eyes glass over. Do you really want me to let you operate a motor vehicle right now?”

Your jaw immediately clicked shut. “Good,” she said, already tucking her arm around your waist and guiding you toward the door. “Your car can stay here. I’ll bring you back for it when you’re not dying.”

You muttered something about drama and dictatorships as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car, buckling your seatbelt like you were a sullen child. She kissed your forehead before shutting the door. “That was for the attitude.”

The ride home was quiet at first. You let your head rest against the cool glass of the window, the rhythm of the tires and the faint hum of traffic lulling you into something almost close to sleep. Agatha kept glancing over at you—checking your color, your breathing, your hands tucked into your lap.

Halfway through downtown, her phone rang over the Bluetooth system. She tapped the steering wheel once to answer.

“This is Agatha.” A pause, Then her body went still. “Yes, this is Maeve’s mother… oh no—yes. Yes, of course. I’ll be there soon.”

Your eyes opened slowly. You didn’t need to ask. Your stomach twisted anyway. Agatha hung up the call and gave you a brief, side-eyed glance. “That was the school. Maeve has a fever. They said she’s lethargic, flushed, and asked if someone could come get her.”

Your heart sank like a stone. “God. I gave it to her.”

Agatha’s voice softened. “You don’t know that.” You swallowed hard, leaning forward as if that would take you back in time to the moment you kissed her goodbye that morning.

“I’ll go get her,” Agatha said, like it was already done. “I’ll drop you at home, get her, and then we’ll figure this out together.”

You tried to offer something—an argument, maybe. An apology. But your chest was tight with guilt and fever, and the ache behind your eyes had sharpened to a stabbing throb. “I should’ve stayed home,” you whispered.

Agatha reached across the console and slid her hand into yours. “We’ll handle it.”

By the time you got home, every step felt like wading through sand. Agatha helped you into the house, settled you gently onto the couch, and placed a blanket over your lap with all the tenderness of someone wrapping a precious gift.

“Stay put,” she said, already grabbing her keys again. “I’ll be back soon—with our girl.”

You nodded weakly. “Text me when you have her.”

“Only if you promise not to try to do anything until I get back.”

You gave her a flat look. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” she said, then bent down and kissed your temple. “Rest. I’ll be fast.”

She wasn’t gone long. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty five. You were barely coherent when the front door creaked open again—but the second you heard Maeve’s soft sniffle, you forced yourself upright.

Your daughter looked small in Agatha’s arms, her face pressed to her mother’s shoulder, her sparkly sneakers dangling limply with every step. Her curls were damp at the edges, her cheeks flushed.

One tiny arm was wrapped around Agatha’s neck while the other dangled, limp and listless. She didn’t lift her head until they were right in front of you. “Mama…” Her voice was hoarse and thick, barely more than a whisper. “My tummy feels mean.”

“Oh, baby…” You opened your arms without thinking. Agatha gently transferred her over, her fingers grazing your skin as she helped you shift. Maeve curled into your chest without hesitation, her cheek resting right where your heart beat too fast.

“I gave her some water,” Agatha murmured, crouching to tuck the blanket around both of you. “She didn’t want much. I think the nap hit before the fever could.”

“She feels just like I do,” you said, kissing the crown of Maeve’s head. “Poor thing.”

“She’ll be okay,” Agatha said softly, smoothing a hand down her daughter’s back. “You both will.” Maeve gave a soft sigh and snuggled tighter, her little fingers curling into your shirt.

You leaned your head back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed as Agatha sat beside you. One of her hands found yours again—cool, steady, grounding. And even though your skin burned and your body ached…You were home. And for now… that was enough.

The fever broke sometime after sunrise. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow unwinding. Your body stopped aching quite so violently, your thoughts stopped swimming in fog, and the cold sweat that had soaked your hairline faded into a clammy warmth. You were still weak, still heavy-limbed and off-kilter, but the worst had passed.

Beside you, Maeve was still asleep, sprawled across your lap like a tiny starfish, her cheek pressed to your stomach. You kept your arm around her out of habit and love, fingers tracing gentle shapes into her back as she breathed softly against you. The living room was dim, curtains drawn, the TV glowing low with a loop of animated animals that neither of you were watching.

And Agatha…God, Agatha. She was everywhere. At some point in the night, she must’ve turned the couch into a fortress of pillows and blankets. There was a side table now lined with medicine bottles, tissues, a thermometer, and two nearly empty mugs of tea. Your favorite sweatshirt was draped over the armrest. Maeve’s stuffed unicorn had been tucked between the cushions like a sentry.

Agatha reappeared quietly from the kitchen with another mug in hand, her hair in a messy braid and a pair of soft leggings that looked like they belonged to you. She’d kicked off her heels at some point and was barefoot, her every movement purposeful and quiet. Gentle. She paused in the doorway the second she saw you sitting upright. Her shoulders lowered. “You’re awake.”

You offered a tired smile. “Mostly.” She crossed the room in three strides and crouched in front of you, setting the mug down and reaching for your face before you could blink. Her palm pressed to your forehead, then your cheek, then the curve of your jaw.

Still warm, but no longer burning. Agatha exhaled. “You scared me.”

You closed your eyes as her thumb brushed beneath your eye. “Sorry. I just… I didn’t want to worry you.”

Her lips twitched, equal parts tired and amused. “Yeah too late for that.”

You opened your eyes again, catching the faint shimmer of sleep-deprivation under hers. “You didn’t sleep.”

She leaned her head against your knee, one hand still on your face. “I did. Between doses and thermometer checks. And chasing you off when you tried to get up at 3 a.m. to check your email.”

You winced. “In my defense, I thought it had been a dream.”

“It was a fever dream. And you tried to make toast using the TV remote.”

You groaned. “God.”

Agatha chuckled softly, the sound warm against the quiet hum of cartoons in the background. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re delirious.”

Maeve stirred against your chest then, letting out a tiny whimper before blinking up at both of you with bleary eyes. “Mama…” she mumbled, voice scratchy. “Why do I feel like pudding?”

You kissed her temple. “Because you’re getting better, baby. And pudding is soft.”

“I don’t wanna be pudding,” she sniffled. “I wanna be a lion again.”

Agatha reached over and tucked Maeve’s curls behind her ear, her tone soothing. “You will be. After another nap, some juice, and maybe a tiny bite of oatmeal.”

Maeve considered it, then sighed dramatically and nestled closer to you. “Okay. But I want ice cream later.”

“We’ll find a way to make that happen,” Agatha promised. Later that day, after Maeve had dozed off against the sofa cushions and your strength started to return enough to make it from the couch to the bedroom without swaying, Agatha helped you to bed.

“No, I’m not staying on the couch,” she said firmly when you tried to suggest it. You didn’t argue long. The bed was soft. The sheets were cool. The pillows didn’t smell like crackers and cough syrup. And the moment she settled beside you, one arm curling protectively around your waist, your whole body exhaled.

You were asleep within minutes. And when you woke a little while later, still warm but finally clear-headed, Maeve had been carried in between you—still drowsy, cheeks pink and eyes sleepy. Agatha lay on her side, one hand resting over your hip, the other gently stroking Maeve’s back.

“This is nice,” you mumbled, voice scratchy from sleep.

“It’s heaven,” Agatha whispered. “And if either of you try to move before you’re fully recovered, I will bind you both to this bed with my bare hands.”

You smiled. “Kinky.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Sleep, lieutenant.”You did.

The next morning was still and slow. The kind of morning that felt wrapped in cotton—soft light peeking through half-closed curtains, the faint hum of the dishwasher running in the background, the distant thrum of city traffic muffled by thick glass and deeper sleep.

Maeve was curled between you and Agatha in your bed, one arm thrown across your stomach, her face buried into the side of your pillow, her fever breaking just a few hours after yours. Now, she was cool and still and snoring gently—tiny, rhythmic puffs of breath that made the edge of your shirt rise and fall.

You stretched carefully, muscles sore but no longer aching. Your head still throbbed lightly, your limbs heavy, but you were rested. And more than that—you were warm. Held. Agatha was already awake, one elbow tucked under her head, eyes trained on you like she had been waiting. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice quiet and rich with relief.

You blinked slowly. “You’re staring.”

“I’m monitoring,” she corrected. “You’re recovering. She’s recovering. I am, by default, the monitor.”

You smiled, then reached over and brushed Maeve’s curls off her cheek. “She looks better.”

“She does. You both really scared me, you know.”

“I know.”

Agatha’s fingers skimmed over your wrist, finding your pulse without even thinking. “You’re still warm.”

“Don’t start,” you teased gently. “I’m alive warm. Not boil the tea on my skin warm.”

She gave you a look that said she didn’t appreciate the joke but was too relieved to argue.

You tried to sit up—but a hand pressed to your chest. “Nope.”

“Agatha—”

“I mean it,” she said, full lawyer-voice now. “You are staying in pajamas, under covers, for the rest of the day. You will read books. You will nap. You will not check your email or say the word case file. Are we clear?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you staying in pajamas?”

“I’m making a gracious exception,” she said, pulling the blanket back over you with flair. “But only so someone can make soup and manage the chaos.” You laughed—then winced and coughed into your elbow.

Agatha’s hand was instantly on your back, rubbing slow circles. “Exactly why you’re not allowed out of bed.” The rest of the day was slow, sweet, and peppered with those little domestic moments that made life feel whole.

Nicholas padded in around mid-morning with his sketchbook in hand and a cautious look on his face. “Is she okay?”

“She’s perfect,” Agatha said, already pulling back the blanket to let him crawl onto the bed. He slid in beside you, settling close enough to read without jostling Maeve.

Maeve eventually woke with a dramatic groan and a request for “crackers, but not the kind that crunch weird,” and Agatha took that as her cue to officially assume full control of the household. She wore an apron you hadn’t seen in months, hair twisted into a bun, sleeves rolled up as she moved through the kitchen like she was preparing a five-star meal instead of canned soup and toast.

She refused to let anyone help—not you, not Nicholas, not even Maeve, who tried to “stir the soup with her wand” and got politely redirected with a juice box and an episode of Bluey. Agatha returned with bowls and spoons and the kind of glare that dared you to try getting out of bed again. You didn’t.

Instead, the four of you now curled up on the couch, wrapped in blankets and warmth, Maeve in your lap, Nicholas nestled beside Agatha, your hand resting in hers between you. The TV played quietly. The city carried on just beyond your windows. But inside—it was just you. Healing. Together. Still tired, but safe.

And when the sun dipped low, painting the walls gold and soft, Agatha brushed her fingers through your hair and whispered “You’re allowed to rest. You know that, right?” You nodded, your head resting on her shoulder, Maeve’s weight heavy and sweet against your chest.

“Good,” she murmured. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Not today. Not ever.” And you believed her. The house was finally still. Maeve had been tucked into bed with her unicorn lamp casting a soft glow across her sheets, and Nicholas had insisted on handling it himself.

“Sit down,” he’d said sternly, already taking her by the hand. “You guys rest. She asked for the dinosaur book—we’re doing voices.”

Agatha had raised an eyebrow. “Voices?”

Nicholas gave her a flat look. “I’ve been training for this my entire life.” And sure enough, a few minutes later, muffled giggles and the sounds of roars and stomps echoed faintly from down the hall.

Now the laughter had quieted. The lights were dim. And your room, at last, felt like the inside of a lullaby. You lay on your back in bed, the sheets cool against your skin, the low hum of the night pressing gently at the windows. Agatha was half-draped across you, her cheek resting just above your navel, her arms loosely wrapped around your waist like she could hold you there forever if she just squeezed softly enough.

You’d been threading your fingers through her hair for what felt like hours, slow and rhythmic, your palm warm against her scalp. She made little sounds every now and then—tiny hums of contentment that vibrated through you. Her breathing was even. Grounding. She was still wearing the oversized shirt she’d changed into after dinner, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, the hem rising up slightly over her hips as she melted into you.

You looked down at her—tousled and flushed,messy hair, cheeks still faintly pink from the day’s chaos. Beautiful. Safe. Yours. “Hey,” you murmured.

She didn’t open her eyes. “Hmm?”

“I know I’ve said it before,” you whispered, “but thank you.”

Agatha shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper against your stomach. “For what?”

“For showing up. For seeing through. For taking care of Maeve… for dragging my stubborn ass home.”

She let out a soft exhale, almost like a laugh. “Of course I dragged you home. You were burning up and trying to go over case notes like your skull wasn’t melting.”

You smiled. “You could’ve just scolded me and gone back to work.”

Her arms tightened around you. “I will scold you. Eventually. But not tonight.”

You kept massaging her scalp gently, watching her relax under your touch. “It scares me sometimes, how much I need you.”

She opened one eye at that, lazy and soft. “Good.”

You blinked. “Good?”

Agatha smirked, her lips brushing your skin as she spoke. “Because I need you, too. And now we’re even.” You were quiet for a long moment, just letting the warmth of her soak into you, your hand never stopping its soothing movement through her hair.

Then, softly “I love you so much it physically hurts sometimes.” Agatha didn’t answer with words. She lifted her head just enough to lift your shirt and press a kiss just beneath your ribs—slow and reverent. Then another, just above your waistband. Then she rested her head again and whispered, “You’re my home.”

Your breath caught. And with her arms wrapped around your middle, the weight of her grounding you in the now, you finally let yourself settle. Because everything that mattered—Agatha, Maeve, Nicholas, this love—was here. And for tonight… that was everything.

———————————————

Note: I truly hope y’all enjoyed, lmk your feedback!!

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha x reader #aaa #marvel #kathryn hahn x reader #kathryn hahn #jennifer kale x alice wu gulliver #alice wu gulliver x jennifer kale #alice x jennifer #alice wu gulliver

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

Text

playlists for the readers … ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

bunny!reader ♡

just girly fun vibes — she likes her music catchy, pop-y and fairly relatable. rafe never lets her play her music in the car unfortunately, because he cannot be seen speeding down the road blasting the pussy cat dolls.

🎀 cassie — ditto

🎀 kali uchis, steve lacy, vince staples — only girl

🎀 frank ocean — sweet life

🎀 coco & clair — pretty

🎀 sabrina carpenter — feather

🎀 flo milli — never lose me

🎀 cassie — miss your touch

🎀 childish gambino, jhené aiko — pink toes

🎀 flo.rida, wynter — sugar

🎀 kali uchis — honey baby (SPOILED!)

🎀 angels — my boyfriends back

🎀 foxy brown, kelis — candy

🎀 lana del rey — music to watch boys to

🎀 jhené aiko — maniac

🎀 fergie — clumsy

🎀 ciara, 50 cent — can’t leave ‘em alone

🎀 shelley duvall — he needs me

🎀 nancy sinatra — sugar town

🎀 heidi montag — i’ll do it

🎀 nicki minaj, jeremiah — favourite

🎀 kali uchis — melting

🎀 lady gaga — boys boys boys

🎀 cassie — long way 2 go

🎀 the pussycat dolls — when i grow up

🎀 tom tom club — genius of love

🎀 beyoncé — freakum dress

🎀 gwen stefani — bubble pop electric

🎀 marina — primadonna girl

🎀 madonna — material girl

🎀 pussy cat dolls — stickwitu

🎀 leven kali, syd — do u wrong

🎀 kiana ledé — mad at me

kitty!reader ♡

listens to her music to feel cool n edgy. shes one of those people that think she’s a bitch but she’s not at all, just a lil grumpy. wants everyone to know she liked deftones before it was cool.

🐈‍⬛ pixies — is she weird

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — mardy bum

🐈‍⬛ black box recorder — child psychology

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — pretty girls make graves

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — crush

🐈‍⬛ mazzy star — she’s my baby

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — creep

🐈‍⬛ chris isaak — wicked game

🐈‍⬛ limp bizkit — rollin’

🐈‍⬛ the pretty reckless — makes me wanna die

🐈‍⬛ pearly drops — bloom for me

🐈‍⬛ deftones — root

🐈‍⬛ fka twigs — two weeks

🐈‍⬛ deftones — romantic dreams

🐈‍⬛ hole — doll parts

🐈‍⬛ margeaux — hot faced

🐈‍⬛ siouxsie and the banshees — she’s a carnival

🐈‍⬛ kip tyler — she’s my witch

🐈‍⬛ deftones — mascara

🐈‍⬛ soho dolls — bang bang bang bang

🐈‍⬛ enigma — sadeness

🐈‍⬛ DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM — perfect hair

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — idioteque

🐈‍⬛ björk — come to me

🐈‍⬛ the nbhd — fallen star

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — crying lightening

🐈‍⬛ deftones — diamond eyes

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — girl afraid

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — unpunishable

🐈‍⬛ mitski — townie

🐈‍⬛ gorillaz — kids with guns

🐈‍⬛ evanescence — taking over me

deer!reader ♡

she’d say her playlists are all over the place — but it’s organised mess. she has them perfectly collated and in her head they make perfect sense. don’t put her on the aux though, not because the songs aren’t good but because the vibes are all over the place.

🍪 shura — 2shy

🍪 minnie riperton — les fleurs

🍪 april march — chick habit

🍪 benee — kool

🍪 camille saint- saëns — … le cygne

🍪 the little dippers — forever

🍪 allie x, mitski — susie save your love

🍪 she & him — why do you let me stay here?

🍪 lesley gore — i’m coolin’ no foolin’

🍪 sza — prom

🍪 the penguins — earth angel

🍪 SALES — renee

🍪 cleo sol — sunshine

🍪 japanese breakfast — be sweet

🍪 kate bush — cloud busting

🍪 mazzy star — halah

🍪 the mamas & papas — dedicated to the one i love

🍪 scissors sisters — filthy / gorgeous

🍪 fiona apples — shameika

🍪 fleetwood mac — mystified

🍪 margo guryan — under my umbrella

🍪 erykah badu — apple tree

🍪 mort garson — plantasia

🍪 sza — sweet november

🍪 quadron — sea salt

🍪 corinne bailey rae — green aphrodisiac

🍪 sade — lovers rock

🍪 ella fitzgerald — moonlight serenade

🍪 cigarettes after sex — truly

🍪 tv girl — heaven is a bedroom

🍪 the velvet underground — femme fetale

🍪 clairo, coco & clair — racecar

🍪 james blake, rosalía — barefoot in the park

🍪 tame impala — nangs

puppy!reader ♡

never seen without her walkman — loves running around and dancing to her upbeat music. her playlists will remind you of days in the sun and dancing in summer rain.

🐶 her’s — love on the line (call now)

🐶 HAIM — summer girl

🐶 the la’s — there she goes

🐶 stacey q — two of hearts

🐶 faye webster — right side of my neck

🐶 bakar, summer walker — hell n back

🐶 beabadoobee — sunny day

🐶 dominic fike — babydoll

🐶 jungle — back on 74

🐶 pinkpanthress — attracted to you

🐶 duran duran — girls on film

🐶 shuggie otis — strawberry letter 23

🐶 sixpence none the richer — kiss me

🐶 matilda mann — bloom

🐶 HAIM — falling

🐶 311 — amber

🐶 earth, wind & fire — boogie wonderland

🐶 lorde — ribs

🐶 lesley gore — sunshine lollipops and rainbows

🐶 stevie wonder — all i do

🐶 the human league — don’t you want me

🐶 the turtles — happy together

🐶 pet shop boys — west end girls

🐶 clairo — bags

🐶 pat benetar — love is a battlefield

🐶 the psychedelic furs — love my way

🐶 scouting for girls — she’s so lovely

🐶 noisettes — wild young hearts

🐶 the all eyes i — beat goes on

🐶 tame impala — elephant

🐶 sublime — waiting for my ruca

🐶 mgmt — boogie down

#bunny!reader #kitty!reader #deer!reader #puppy!reader

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advisorykitty · 3 months ago

Note

Is it oo if u do randal x reader who has a similar personality to him? No rush and you dont have to do it if you dont wanna! :D

You and I

Randal x Reader oneshot!!

tbf i actually kind of liked this one! There is also Sebastian since i haven't written him for a while so hope u enjoy that!!

Randal first saw you crouched near the playground, dragging a stick through a patch of mud with impressive dedication. Most kids were playing talking about more 'trivial' matters, but you? You were sculpting what looked like… an angry face with sharp teeth.

“What’s that?” Randal asked, appearing beside you out of nowhere like he always did.

You barely glanced at him, but a small smirk tugged at your lips. “A monster. His name’s Chuck. He eats toes.”

Randal cackled, crouching down beside you. “Toes, huh? Nice. Can I add something?”

You shrugged. “Go for it.”

Randal snatched another stick and started adding spiky hair and a pair of wild, mismatched eyes to Chuck’s face. By the time recess ended, the two of you had turned the mud patch into a whole grotesque masterpiece. And just like that, you were friends!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Fast forward a few years, and not much had changed. You and Randal were still inseparable partners in chaos, thriving on mischief and mayhem. Which is why you were currently sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the forest, waiting for him.

“He’s late,” you muttered, flicking a pinecone across the dirt. It wasn’t unusual for Randal to lose track of time, but it was still annoying. You had big plans for today—things involving mud, trees, and possibly fire if you could get away with it.

Finally, you heard the familiar sound of mismatched footsteps crunching through the underbrush. “Hey, bunny!” Randal called, grinning as he emerged from the shadows.

“About time,” you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your jeans. “What took you so long?”

Randal shrugged, his grin widening. “Luther made me clean up my dolls before I left. He said if I didn’t, he’d ‘lock me in the bad boys closet.’” He mimicked Luther’s deep, monotone voice, then rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop me.”

You snickered. “Big brother sounds fun.”

“Oh, he’s a blast,” Randal said sarcastically, waving a hand. “Anyway, guess who I brought with me?”

Before you could ask, Sebastian stumbled into view, looking as miserable as ever. His costume was rumpled, his hair was a mess, and his expression screamed help me.

“I didn’t agree to this,” Sebastian muttered, glaring at Randal.

“Yes, you did,” Randal shot back cheerfully. “By not running fast enough when I grabbed you.”

Sebastian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why am I here? I have better things to do than.. indulge .. you two ..psychos.”

“Because we’re fun,” you said, grinning as you leaned against a tree. “And because Randal said so.”

Sebastian sighed heavily, muttering something under his breath about “crazy people” and “needing a better escape plan.”

After some bickering and a lot of laughter (mostly from you and Randal), the three of you decided to play hide and seek. Randal, of course, was the seeker.

“Thirty seconds, then I’m coming for you!” Randal announced, turning to face a tree and covering his eyes. “One… two…”

Sebastian immediately began running.. and running?? clearly aiming to get as far away as possible. You, on the other hand, had a better plan.

Spotting a tall tree with thick branches, you grinned and started climbing. The bark was rough under your hands, but you didn’t care. You loved heights—the higher, the better.

By the time Randal yelled, “Ready or not, here I come!” you were perched near the top of the tree, peering down at the forest below. You could see Sebastian skulking around the base of another tree, glancing nervously over his shoulder his breath ragged from the previous running.

“Hey, Sebastian!” you called, waving.

He looked up, his jaw dropping. “Are you insane? Get down from there!”

You laughed, swinging your legs. “Why? Afraid of heights?”

Sebastian scowled. “No, I’m afraid of you falling and breaking your neck. Which I’m not helping you with, by the way.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, standing on the branch like a circus performer. “It’s not that high.”

“It’s at least twenty feet!”

“Whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Watch this!”

Before he could protest, you jumped. The air rushed past you in a thrilling blur, and you landed in a crouch a few feet away from Sebastian.

“Ta-da!” you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.

Sebastian stared at you, his face pale. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Yep,” you said, grabbing his arm. “Now it’s your turn!”

“What—no—hey!” Sebastian yelped as you started dragging him toward the tree.

Ignoring his protests, you climbed the tree again, this time with him in tow. He clung to you like a terrified cat, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

“Relax,” you said, grinning. “I’ve got you.”

“This is not relaxing...”

By the time you reached the top, Sebastian was practically vibrating with anxiety. “I hate this. I hate you. I hate Randal.”

“You love us,” you said, laughing. “Now look! Isn’t the view great?”

Sebastian hesitantly glanced around, ,his expression hardened.

“No it isn't."

“Ouch.”

Down below, Randal was wandering aimlessly, calling out in a sing-song voice. “Sebaaaastian… Y/N… I know you’re around here somewhere!”

You grinned mischievously, leaning down to yell, “Up here, loser!”

Randal’s head snapped up, and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Awesome! Can I join you?”

Sebastian groaned. “Please don’t.”

Of course, Randal ignored him and started climbing the tree.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As Randal climbed the tree, you shifted your weight on the branch, causing it to sway slightly. Sebastian immediately clutched the trunk like his life depended on it.

“Can you not?” Sebastian hissed, shooting you a panicked glare. “This thing’s going to snap, and we’re all going to die!”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, waving him off. Then you turned to Randal, who was dangling precariously from a branch below you, grinning up at you like a lunatic.

“Nice tree,” Randal said. “Plenty of room for everyone, huh? Kinda cozy.”

“Yeah, cozy,” Sebastian muttered sarcastically.

Randal ignored him, pulling himself up to sit beside you. “So, guess what I found this morning?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Randal reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny doll. Its painted eyes stared blankly, and its hair was matted like it had seen better days. “Her name’s Matilda. Found her in the dumpster behind school. She told me she was lonely, so I took her home.”

“She told you?” Sebastian asked flatly, looking at Randal like he had grown a second head.

“Yeah,” Randal said casually. “She’s shy, though. Doesn’t talk to just anyone.”

You tilted your head, studying the doll. “I get it. I’ve got one like that. Her name’s Clementine. Found her in an old attic. She doesn’t like sunlight, though. Says it burns her eyes.”

Randal’s grin widened. “See? You get it. Dolls are way more interesting than people.”

Sebastian groaned, rubbing his temples. “You’re both insane.”

“Thanks,” you and Randal said in unison, clearly taking it as a compliment.

“Hey,” Randal said, nudging you. “If Matilda and Clementine ever meet, do you think they’d get along?”

“Maybe,” you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “But Clementine’s kinda territorial. She doesn’t like sharing her shelf.”

Randal nodded, completely serious. “I get that. Matilda’s the same way. Maybe we could set up a playdate and see how it goes.”

Sebastian blinked at the two of you, utterly baffled. “You’re actually planning a playdate… for your dolls?”

“Yeah,” you said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Why not?” Randal added, shrugging.

Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Randal turned to you, his expression mischievous. “So, do you name all your dolls, or just the special ones?”

“All of them,” you said, smirking. “Even the ones that don’t have heads. They’ve got personalities, you know.”

“I knew you’d get it,” Randal said, practically beaming.

Sebastian, meanwhile, looked like he was ready to throw himself out of the tree. “This is my nightmare,” he muttered.

You and Randal ignored him, falling into a deep conversation about doll maintenance. You compared notes on cleaning techniques, how oil made their eyeballs shinier, repair methods, and the best way to keep their clothes from fraying.

“I use a sewing kit,” Randal said, pulling out a needle from his jacket pocket. “Got it from Big Brother's room. Don’t tell him, though. He gets all cranky when I ‘borrow’ his stuff.”

“Noted,” you said with a grin. “I usually just glue things back together, but sewing sounds cool.”

Before Randal could reply, there was a loud crack.

All three of you froze, glancing at the branch beneath you. It groaned ominously, swaying under your combined weight.

“Uh… guys?” Sebastian said, his voice rising an octave. “This branch isn’t—”

SNAP!

The branch gave way, and the three of you plummeted to the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs. You hit the dirt with a loud thud, Randal landing on top of you and Sebastian sprawled awkwardly beside you.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Randal burst out laughing, clutching his sides. “That was awesome! We almost died!!”

Sebastian groaned, rolling onto his back. “I hate you. I hate both of you.”

You laughed, brushing leaves out of your hair. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“No, because it was terrible,” Sebastian grumbled.

Randal sat up, still grinning. “Let’s do it again!”

Sebastian’s eyes widened in horror. “Absolutely not!”

You smirked, nudging Randal with your elbow. “He’s no fun.”

“None at all,” Randal agreed.

Sebastian groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I just wanna go home..”

Randal's eyes gleamed for a second before turning to you.

"Oh yeah if forgot! Big brother said i had to be home by 7pm, what time is it?"

You quickly pulled out your old pocket watch and struggled to read the time.

"Uhh its 11pm"

Randal blinked, then burst into laughter, leaning back against the tree trunk with a manic grin. "Oops. Guess I’m grounded again."

You chuckled, shaking your head as you dusted off your clothes. “What else is new?”

Sebastian groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “You’re both insane.

#ranfren x reader #fanfic #luther von ivory #randals friends #randal ivory #sebastian ranfren #nyen ranfren #nyon ranfren #fanfiction

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quartzalynlove · 1 year ago

Text

Dating Johnny Cage Would Include

Pairing: Johnny Cage (mk1) x reader

Summary: hcs about dating our favorite movie star

Warnings: none

A/N: I've got so many Johnny ideas running around this head

Alright let's cut to the chase

This man's love language is gift giving

Jewelry, clothing, shoes he's buying it all for you

You know in Iron Man 3 when Tony bought the giant Christmas bunny for Pepper? Yeah expect something like that from time to time

But he's also very sentimental and will buy you things he knows you love/will make you happy

That book you've been talking about reading all year? He'll surprise you with it on a random Tuesday just to see you smile

And don't be a collector or something

You like mugs? Funko pops? Magic the Gathering?? He's the sole sponsor of your collection

His net worth may be in the millions but nothing he owns is worth more than pure joy on your face

Speaking of your face he's constantly trying to get you on the screen

Whether you think you have talent or not Johnny just wants your perfect being captured on film

"C'mon, doll, I found auditions for a lead in a rom-com. You'd steal hearts on the big screen!"

Lord knows you've already stolen his

The man's a huge kid and nerd at heart so if you're also a movie buff he'll be on cloud nine

He hasn't had many people to talk to about the magic of entertainment since his mom when he was younger

The two of you would lose track of time talking about the good, the bad, and the cheesy of movie history

This also means he will talk and flirt with you almost exclusively in movie quotes

And if at any point you start thinking they're cheesy he'll switch it up with an expression bc he knows they always make you laugh

While he is silly, nerdy, and impulsive Johnny also values quality time with you

He wouldn't trade his job for anything in the world but sometimes it's a lot

Sometimes he just needs a movie night you

Nothing but the two of you cuddled on the couch, a bottle of wine, and the entire Star Wars saga

He could never thank you enough for supporting him and in turn he fully supports you in all of your passions

Imposter syndrome and insecurity are not allowed in the house

For every flaw you see in your work he will list 10 things he loves about it

"I know it's hard not to feel like this, but even when you can't believe in yourself, I'll always be your cheerleader."

Where's his favorite place to kiss you? Where isn't

It all depends on which part of you looks most kissable at any given moment

He'll kiss your lips, cheek, forehead. He'll even kiss your stomach totally unprompted.

Got freckles or beauty spots? He's abt to become a problem

In his eyes, you're walking cinema that he can touch, taste, and love. He wouldn't miss a second of you.

Bottom line: Johnny's happiness in life is bringing joy to the world and you're no exception

The smiles of millions of his fans at Cage Con is only equal to one of yours

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wandaslamb · 1 year ago

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Cabin In the Woods

Parings: Dark!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ Non-con, Knife play, cutting, blood (just a little bit), pet names (bunny, baby doll, sweetheart, angel), body betrayal, fingering, cunnilingus, hair pulling, daddy kink, chasing, obsessive, stalking, pervy nat, if I'm missing things let me know :)

a/n: hi!!! this is my very first fic, and I really would appreciate it if you left some type of feedback :))) I was really nervous to post this, considering I haven't written a fic in years, but I got bored one day, and here it is!! I hope you guys enjoy it, and maybe I'll turn this fic into an actual AU

Word count: 4.5k

After your long semester and treacherous finals and projects you had to finish, you decided that you wanted to go to an Air BNB to relax and take time off from the real world. You always liked the woods; it was calming, and you and your parents always went on camping trips when you were younger. Getting older, you found escaping to the woods after a long, hard time and reconnecting with nature was very rehabilitating. So, seeing this offer, you decided to pack your bags and go out for a week.

There was a slight knock on the door. You assumed it might have been Wanda, the lady who let you stay in her lovely cabin. "Hello? Anyone home?" The knocking continued till you got up and answered the door.

"Oh..thank god someone answered!" A woman who didn't look like Wanda from the pictures in the cabin stood there. She wore a simple tank top with ripped jeans and black boots to finish the look. She had deep red hair that was messily tied up in a bun. She looked like she had a backpack with a camera around her neck; she must have been a hiker.

"A-are you okay? It's pretty late out.. are you hurt?" Seeing someone out this late was very strange. When you would go out, it was close to sundown, but you always made it back in time before the sun fully set.

The woman let out a nervous laugh, "I'm fine, I'm not hurt or anything, but um," she trailed off, clutching her camera in her hands.".. Fuck this is so embarrassing..but I'm uh, pretty lost.." her voice trailed off before she decided to muster up the courage to look at you.

"Listen, I know... I know. I was trying to get some pictures of the area, and the lookout points weren't doing them justice, so I kind of.. Went off the trail. I mean, I did get a few good photos in the process!" she let out a deep sigh, catching the concerned look on your face." sorry, Besides the point. Can you possibly point me in the right direction of the trail?"

"Well...I haven't been here for a while, but I can help you." You peeked your head outside past her and recollected your memory of the path you would take when you went on your walks before speaking again.

"got it.. Back up the hill, stay to the right of the river.." She smirked, "And there isn't any chance of you walking back with me?" You didn't know the lady, but the kindness in you wanted to go with her to make sure she got back safe, but how would you get back in the dark?

"I'm kidding! Of course not... It's getting dark for a young girl like you to be out this late anyways.." she grabbed onto the straps of her backpack, sighing, "Well... Thank you! I'm sorry for barging into your peaceful weekend; maybe I'll see you and whoever you are here with hiking tomorrow?" You gave a shy nod and told the woman goodnight before closing the door and going to bed.

The next day, you spent the whole morning and afternoon cooking breakfast and sitting by the river writing in your journal. Since the river was so close to your cabin, you decided it would be nice to hang out there before returning. The weather was nice; some birds were chirping in the distance, the water was calm, and there weren't many people around.

The sun started to set, so you decided it was time for your walk. It was pretty late; the sun had almost entirely set, but you figured no one would be around, and you wouldn't travel far from the cabin; you went on your journey. The woods at night were more serene; the stars you never get to see because of the city lights lit up your path along with the moon; the woodland creatures were more than likely asleep at night, so the bunnies, deer, and birds you saw while you were at the river were long gone.

It wasn't before long you heard a crack deep in the forest that made you jump, assuming you were alone. "Oh, it's you!" you heard a familiar voice say before turning towards it. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sneak up on you... I mean, it's not hard to spook someone when they are hiking at night." the woman let out a deep laugh before you glared at her for scaring you.

"Well, I was going on my daily walk... I lost track of time and…what are you doing out here??" You folded your arms, waiting for her reply. "What am I doing out here? More photography..now that I know my way back, I won't get lost if I decide to go out and take some shots of the moon or... Other things.." she leaned against the tree before smiling again, "So, did you get any of your friends to come hiking with you?" You started to look down, but her laugh and deeper voice took you out of your thoughts.

"Oh… don't tell me you came to that cabin alone... What is a young girl like you doing by herself in a cabin in the woods?"

"I just wanted to take some time off after my semester in school; I assumed no one comes out here, so-" The woman stood up straight; it wasn't until now that you noticed that she was a lot taller and more muscular-looking than you. She had defined muscles along with her shirt, showing off her toned abs.

"Oh, you are a lot braver than me; I mean, your not worried something happened to you while you were out here; I get it it's pretty remote out here... But Shit can happen, right?"

"Yea… I guess you are right; I just assumed because, on the listing, the lady said people don't come around the area as much, so it would be quiet and peaceful… "You brushed off that she was standing slightly close to you, and you backed away a bit. "Anyways, where's your camera? I'd love to see some of your pictures if you don't mind.." giving her a soft, warm smile, you leaned against the tree.

"Oh, it's here! I know it doesn't look like much. But I've gotten some really.. Really good photos so far. It takes great close-up shots...We could go back to your cabin and get you out of the dark, and I can show them to you. Only if you want.." she licked her lips before leaning over you against the tree.

"I didn't say this earlier, but you are very pretty. I mean, I could take your pictures too if you want.." The woman's deep voice rattled through your head, and the prominent shyness started to creep up on your face because of how close you were. "Come on! Why do you look so nervous all of a sudden? I mean, you know I've taken photos of you already... what's a few more?"

"You…what?" Your smile quickly turned into a frown, and hearing her laugh only made you feel worse, "It's not like you can stop me, pretty girl.." there was darkness in her eyes that made your body feel cold. You tried too hard to get from her, proving extremely hard because she trapped you between her and the tree. But you managed to get out of the way and make a run for it.

"You know you only make it worse if you run!!" You paid her no mind instead, running as far as you could. You couldn't run to your cabin because she knew exactly where it was. Maybe the service road could be some help?

You heard heavy footsteps come after you, but you were determined to get out of the woods. Your breath was ragged, and your running started to slow down; you assumed that you would be more fit to run long distances, but your daily pilates proved you wrong.

It wasn't long until your arm got pulled, and your body got pressed against the ground. "You can only run so far, bunny.." her breath beating down your neck as you tried to catch yours.

"Haha... I got you~ awe, bunny, look at those pretty wide eyes, you struggling to catch your breath. I told you there was no use to running; you should have listened to me, darling." she moved a piece of hair behind your ear, now straddling your back, "What really was the plan here? You came out to stay at a cabin alone, you answered the door for a stranger and went out a night completely defenseless. If I didn't know any better, it was like you wanted someone to." She stopped and laughed. She saw the tears roll down your face onto the forest floor.

"Well... I don't want to spoil the surprise I have planned for you…" she smiled, taking her thumb and wiping your falling tears before she ran that same thumb across her tongue, letting out a guttural moan.

You just knew you were dead; you watched way too many true crime videos to see what happens to people who are in your situation. You felt her start to bite and kiss the side of your neck, starting to leave a bruise on it, making you whimper in the process.

"Was that a whimper? What a sweet little bunny..! Do it again.." she returned to a different spot, moaning on your neck, marking you as hers. "I feel you shaking, sweetheart, don't be scared... I'm going to make you feel good.." You started to kick at her, trying to free yourself yet again.

"Hey.. hey... I can hold you down with one hand and choke you with the other. Do you want me to fuck your pathetic little body on the ground like the little slut you are," she growled in your ear, sending shivers down your body, "or are you going to come back to the cabin with me, like a good little bunny?" she nipped at your ear earning a small yelp from you, "ill.. Come back w-with you please.." you managed to squeak out.

"Good girl, now come on.." she slowly got off you, still holding onto your arms. "I don't think I need to tell you; what would happen if you try to run again, do I?" You started to get a bit antsy, tears spilling down your face before you heard a flick of a knife that was swiftly held up to your throat.

"Ah ah ah... Now you are all quiet, aren't you?.. I'm astonished you seemed like a very smart girl; you fell for the lost little hiker act... Such a gullible little bunny.." she chuckled before pushing you to walk. Not before long, you both showed up to the cabin. The knife is still at your neck. Your arms locked tightly in her other hand.

"Open the door.." your shaky hands unlocked the door, letting you inside. She led you both to a couch in the middle of the room before she sat on it, grabbing your hair and pulling you towards her, making you cry out. "You have such pretty soft hair, bunny.." she let go of it, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, instantly dominating your mouth.

She bit your lip, making you whimper in her lap, making her pull away, now sadistically smiling at you. "Mmm, you like it when I bite your lip, hm? I felt that shiver, sweet girl.. "she let out a deep breath "fuck, I couldn't help myself after seeing you hiking from that lookout point. Your gorgeous ass and thighs in those leggings, your cute little face when you got tried...I got myself off before I got up to where I was. I snapped photo after photo of you while you played in the river and when you went out to journal in your pajamas every morning. But I knew pictures weren't enough, no... I had to have you. I had to be the one that makes you tired, to make you whimper and moan for me. I need to see you... All of you, bunny. Let's get you out of these, hm?" you felt the coldness of her sharp knife press against you, cutting your shirt off along with your sports bra.

She moaned when she saw your breasts pop out of your bra before dropping the knife and taking them in her hands, teasing you, smiling when you started trembling in her lap.

"I know you are excited, darling... I am, too.." she ran her palms up your stomach before wrapping them around your neck.

"N-no, please.." she tilted her head before frowning at you, "No? Did you just say no.. to me?" her voice became monotone. She looked like she wasn't happy.

"Look at me." you didn't. You were too busy in your mind, assuming the worst was about to happen to you until you felt a sharp sting across your cheek. "I said. Look. At. Me." she gritted through her teeth. "You're going to listen to me, bunny? I'm going to get these leggings off, then you're going to go up to that bedroom of yours and lay back on your bed... Do you understand me?" you looked down at the knife in her hand that was dangerously close to your chest. "Look at me. Look at me in the eyes, not the knife, baby.." your eyes slowly met hers. "Good girl.."

Tears started to pool up again, making her give you a fake pout, "Baby doll, you do not have to cry.. I'm going to make you feel so good. And you're going to make me feel good, too.." you started to sniffle and chose not to say anything else.

"Now, we are going to walk... And you're going to feel this knife pressed against your throat. If you do anything stupid, you will be sliced open..is that clear?" you nodded, whimpering.

"Say yes, Daddy.." you heard the smile in her voice when she said that.

"Y-yes, Daddy.." she let out a satisfied hum, "there we go.." You both made your way up to the bedroom, lying on the bed as you were told. "Just like that... Good little bunny!!" smiled, pulling out her camera, "Let me just... capture this moment.." she started taking pictures of you pouting when you began to cry again. "Baby, don't cry! I need you to smile! Let's see that pretty smile, okay?"

After a few more pictures, she removed her bag, set the camera on the nightstand, and walked over to you. "Hmm, can you do one last thing for me, bunny?.. Give me your wrist." she took your wrist, chaining them to the bed.

"You can pull off them now, but it won't matter.." she giggled.

"W-why..?"

She chuckled, "Aren't you the curious bunny.." she smiled, getting close to your face. "Because baby, I'm going to fuck you so good you aren't going to want to go anywhere..not... That'd let you anyway. Now.. open your mouth."

You looked at her, opening your mouth before she squeezed your face, making you stick your tongue out before spitting on it. "Aht aht.. Don't swallow it, doll. Keep your tongue out nice and pretty for me.." she started to take off her clothes, and you watched as she did, seeing all the scratches you had left from trying to fight back. "seems like you put up a small fight.." she climbed over you, giving you a complete view of her glistening pussy. Seeing how wet she was from this whole interaction didn't even compare to how much you were dripping on the bed. But you were scared shitless. Your body felt otherwise.

She lowered herself on your face, grabbing your hair and making you moan against her. "Come on, sweetheart, you're going to eat Daddy out, okay? Clean up the mess you've made of me." you absentmindedly started to lap at her clit, earning her deep moans and her pulling your hair even more.

"Mm yea.. Use your pretty little tongue... Fuck.." her head was thrown back, her toned stomach was all you could see. You, too, caught up in her sounds, and she tasted didn't even notice when she reached back and started rubbing your puffy little cunt through your panties with her fingers making you moan against her, sending vibrations thorough out her body.

"Mm, don't stop licking, keep fucking going. Holy Shit… being such an obedient little slut.." she gasped when she felt your wetness seep through your panties. "Such a dirty little girl turned on by getting used like the whore you are. Letting a fucking stranger use your mouth to get off." her breathing got ragged as you got faster and more sloppy with your licks and sucks, making her cum all over your face.

"Ah ha.. don't you look pretty angel.. Covered in my cum and your drool…I need another picture.." she grabbed the camera off the nightstand again, snapping some pictures.

"You want to taste yourself, doll?" she moved her fingers up to your mouth, plunging them down your throat, making you gag a bit. "Taste good, doesn't it? I have to get a taste for myself later, but since you've been a good bunny for me, it's time for your reward.

You thought it was your chance to do something. You started squirming, and it made her a tiny bit upset. "Do you think squirming is going to do anything? You can't get away from me… did you forget I have a knife? I don't want to use it on you, but I will if you keep struggling. You're such a pretty girl... My pretty girl and I would hate to mess you up... Let me cut this underwear off, and then I'll put the knife up…" She flicked it open again, causing you to buck your hips as she got close to cutting them off, making her knick your thigh in the process. "See..this happens when you don't listen to daddy.."

"No- no, please... Stop, please!" your tears started to come back; she shushed you, licking the blood off the knife before straddling your waist. "You can say no all you want, bunny, but it's happening no matter what.." she cut them off, exposing you to the cold air of the cabin, your scent making her moan.

"Look at you, bunny.. you're dripping down to your ass," she ran her softly up your slit before licking it clean, letting out a satisfied moan. You jerked your hips at her noises, making her giggle. "Oh.. you jerked pretty hard there... Does it feel good? I've barely even touched you.."

She got off your waist, looking down over you, "If I were to just... push my fingers into you now, they would slide in so easily. But I'll be nice... Just circle warm you up a bit."

"No! Stop it, please.." you cried out. Your voice was almost gone, and you watched as she rolled her eyes.

"Here we go again with the no… you're being so stubborn. I think it would just be better for the both of us if I just.." she took your now ripped panties and shoved them into your mouth.

"Shut. You. Up. There.." she had a satisfied smile on her face. "Oh, don't look so terrified... It wasn't like you were going to wear those panties again anyway... Now where was I… right." she smiled, continuing to circle your clit, moaning before sticking two fingers in you and making you scream.

"Aww, look at you taking two fingers like a good girl; you usually can only fit one in. You brought that new toy with you on your trip but couldn't even fit that. And look at you now, being a big girl, taking two of my fingers so easily." She really has been watching you this whole time. You were sure you closed the curtains... Maybe she had heard you mumbling to yourself about it...

The room was full of sounds from your aching cunt, her deep moans from seeing your pussy grip her fingers, and your cries of pain that soon turned into pleasures. She started to use her thumb to rub your clit.

"What if I was to add another finger..oh.. Was that a moan, bunny?" she bit her lip before laughing, "Let me hear it again.." she started to move her thumb faster, making you arch your back before pushing down on your stomach and fingering you harder.

"Oh, I think you're getting closer for me, baby; we can stop, though, for a second.." she pulled her fingers out of you, making you whimper and clinch around nothing, missing her fingers being inside of you. She started to laugh, seeing your face begin to tear up again.

"Look at you... It's pathetic! First telling me no and now wanting me to finish you off... You're so adorable, bunny.." she went in her bag and got something to put on. When she came back, she had a strap without the toy. She started to look at your bags before taking the brand-new toy you brought and attaching it to it. "It's so cute that you picked out this one... This might be a little too big for you, don't you think?" she was right; you had picked out a toy that was way too big for you. You ultimately chose it because of its appearance; it was a clear and pink silicone toy with little hearts in it. You didn't read the size when you ordered it and ordered a 9-inch.

"Don't worry, bunny, ill make it fit.." she lined herself up with your entrance rubbing the tip up and down your slick-covered cunt. "You make me so fucking wet bunny... The way you took my pussy in your mouth like a good slut. You were such a good girl, making me feel so good. But now it's my turn to make you feel even better." she slowly pushed herself in, making you moan out, her holding your hips still as you took almost half the cock in you.

"Mm, look at that.. God, I wish you could see how good your cunt looks stretched around this toy.." She started to rub your clit again, pushing more and more into you before you felt her bottom out into you. "That's a good girl!! See, I knew you could do it.." she started slowly but started to pound you when she felt you loosen up a little bit. Your back was arched as she held your hips, mumbling dirty names in your ear as she fucked you senseless.

"Doesn't it feel good, bunny?" your face was puffy from all the tears you were letting out as she started to kiss them away. She mumbled into your neck, "I know, I know… it's so hard to go slow when you're making cute noises like these. I want you to scream for me... But there is always tomorrow for that angel; you are all mine. I don't have to rush; you didn't think this was the last time we'd do this, did you?" your heart sank as tears rose in your eyes.

You whimpered about how the owner of the house would be looking for you, but nothing came out except muffled sounds in between her thrusts. She chuckled and looked down at you.

"Honey, no one is going to look for you. Your mine for the next few days... Maybe even longer. Fuck! You feel so fucking good. I don't think I'll ever let you go.." you were trying your best to stifle your moans, not trying to be loud to let her know you were slightly enjoying her movements. She stroked your face with her hand before cupping your face.

"It's so cute watching you try to be quiet; you can let go for me, bunny... No one is going to hear you. It's okay.." her breath was ragged again, and her thrust became sloppier.

"You're doing so good for me, sweetheart. Sweetheart, let me help you.." she reached into the side table drawer and pulled out a small vibrator, widening your eyes. 'How did she know that was there?' you thought. But you were completely snapped out of it before she unchained one of your hands and put the vibrator in your hand before guiding it to your clit.

"Oh fuck!! Your clinching so hard around my cock, bunny… I want you to come for me, doll.." she slapped your face, "aht aht I want to see your pretty little eyes, come on now look at me while you cum, come on be a good girl for me.." the tears pricked at your eyes, but they seemed only to egg her on.

"Mm, does it feel good, angel? Me pounding you with your toy while you have a little vibrator on your clit?" her moans got louder, and so did yours. It wasn't until she removed your hand with the vibrator from your clit you let out the most pornographic moan, squirting on her and the bed as she pulled out of you.

Your body was spazzing as she unchained you pulling you into her lap and holding you as you came down from your high. She reached over to grab a water bottle from her bag and gave it to you, making you drink it as she smiled down at you. There was a faint buzz from the other nightstand as you tried to catch your breath; the woman reached over to get what seemed to be your phone. She let out a small chuckle before moving the strand of hair out of your face and showing you your phone.

"Look, bunny, the owner said you don't have to worry about the payment... She said she'd be home shortly... Though I don't think the cameras did you justice, she'd want to see you for herself.." She sat the phone down before laying you back down on the bed.

"But let's get you cleaned up first. I want my wife to see how adorable you are when you aren't covered in sweat and cum.. Maybe you can show her the pictures when she comes. How does that sound?"

And with that, she went to run the bath. You weren't going anywhere anytime soon, not that your legs worked anyway. She carried you to the bathtub, settling you in before going downstairs. It wasn't until long before you heard the words, "Oh Nat, she's perfect... Our perfect bunny.”

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