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scvrgrl · 8 days ago

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don’t worry darling | vinsmoke sanji x fem!reader

sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second...

word count: 2.6k

cw/tags: afab/fem!reader, housewife!sanji, established relationship, high school sweethearts, mature language, modern!au, fluff, porn with a lil plot, cunnilingus, slight suffocation (it's okay he likes it), use of pet names ("darling", "sweetheart", etc.), and other crazy shit i probably forgot to mention, MDNI pls!!!

if you're unfamiliar with frankie avalon's 'venus', you can find the song here!

frustration throbbed beneath the soft skin of your temples, vessels threatening to pop under the weight of your irritation. countless hours spent at your stuffy office job called for silent drives home with the windows down, the cool summer breeze drowning out the musty scent that stuck to your clothes.

the warm kitchen light illuminated the red brick of the windowsill as you pulled into the driveway. the hum of a soulful tune spills from the window, Etta James' voice synchronizing with the longing beat of your heart. polished glass slightly ajar graced you with a glimpse into your own loving home, the home you shared with you husband. your eyes landed on the sight of your husband's well-dressed back, cigarette in hand as he swayed along to the tune. you instantly recognized the maroon dress shirt that clung to his sculpted frame, a piece of his expansive wardrobe he knew was one of your favorites. his gaze was focused on the sizzling pan before him, tossing its contents gently as he took a long drag. it was small acts of service like these that made your heart swell, traces of harsh footsteps washed away from the shore of your mind.

slipping off your work shoes, Sanji's firm hands snake around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss. your head swims as he dives into you, teeth brushing together as you smile. the smell of spice and nicotine floods your senses, a familiar warmth pooling deep in your stomach.

"hello, my love," Sanji greets tenderly, palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. "how was work today?"

"long," you sighed, shrugging off your coat. "how was your day? i smell something cooking."

Sanji chuckles at the sight of your nose switching upwards, inhaling the savory aroma of meat and starches. "mine was just fine, dear. i've been prepping dinner all day — it's your favorite! grilled chicken with garlic potatoes and veggies, just the way you like it."

the thought of the delicious meal made your stomach grumble, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Sanji's raspy laughter filled the silence as he brought you close to his chest, his thrumming heart filling your ears. the beat synchronized with the introduction to Frankie Avalon's 'Venus,' your coupled bodies swaying to the soft melody. a thick, sultry hum vibrates against your temple as Sanji begins to sing along:

"Venus, goddess of love that you areee," he drawled, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "surely the things i ask, can't be too great a task.."

overwhelming gratitude filled your chest as you whisked away in the foyer of your home, the home you shared with Sanji. he was the man of your dreams, often staying home to tend to housework while you provided for your growing family. when you first started dating, he offered to work for the rest of your life if it meant that you would never have to worry ever again. your high school sweetheart was always overly ambitious, constantly feeling the need to reassure him that wouldn't be necessary. despite always complaining about your nosey coworkers, you enjoyed working as it gave you a stable routine amidst the chaos of your life. Sanji was another grounding force that kept you afloat, a factor in your life that you knew would remain constant. his place in your heart was set in stone, an immovable force that no disaster could shake.

you crane your neck upwards to meet his soothing gaze, using the palm of your hand to gently cup his cheek. scratchy stubble of a clean shaven face grazed your soft skin, the pads of your thumb tracing the wear of his under eyes. Sanji sacrifices his time at the restaurant for you, cutting down his hours so that you can come home to a clean house with a fresh meal decorating the dining table. sheltered in the haze of cigarette smoke and you are Sanji's favorite evenings. but it would be a lie to say that you don't worry about your husband's wellbeing. worried that he prioritizes your needs over his own.

"you know you don't have to do this, sweetheart. i'm perfectly fine with coming home to take-out and a movie date on the couch. i'm worried you're stretching yourself thin for my sake," you said shyly, sympathetic.

Sanji took your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss, "I'm fine, [y/n]. i promise you that everything i do, i do out of free will. now let me take care of you by feeding you—"

overcome with emotion and desire for your husband, you crash your lips into his, cutting his sentence short. your firm grasp on the nape of his warm neck guided him into you, Sanji matching your pace with practiced ease. the kiss began tenderly, spoke a language no words in the English language could proclaim. but with the kind of day you've had, you craved more and more of his delicate touch. you wanted to make up for all the lost time you spent wasting away in that dusty office while your husband worked, busying himself as he patiently awaited your arrival.

small nibbles and desperate pulls of velvety skin intensified your need, a fervid heat beginning to pool between your thighs. Sanji's strong hands worked at your waist, tugging your hips into his, now painfully aware of the clothing that separated the two of you. "off" was the word tattooed to the forefront of your mind, the power it held in what it meant drove you to a euphoric high as you pressed yourself further into him. as if you couldn't feel more alive, Sanji hoisted you up into the air, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved with purpose. you gasped in shocked pleasure at the height, staring into his deep blue eyes before colliding once again. you had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. all you knew was that you needed him. and you needed him now. hell, he could take you right here on the floor if he really wanted to, ruining the pristine condition he worked to maintain throughout the day.

to your surprise, a firm surface clashes with the soft plush of your ass, Sanji using it as an instrument to aid your pleasure. his gentle hand is now rested under your knee, spreading your thighs ever-so-slightly to claim his spot between them. the thick hard-on beneath his dark slacks grazes your aching core with every dip and thrust. your hips buck mindlessly, chasing that sensation as you grow increasingly more wet under his touch. the taut material of your work pants begin to prickle your legs, your arousal bleeding into a feverish sweat. off.

"off, Sanji," you whimpered, eyes half lidded as you tugged at your waistband. "take these off."

Sanji, never one to deny your request, began to fiddle with the metallic loops and buckles of your pants. his hot mouth lowered down to your neck as he peeled the pants clean off. the snap of the loud fabric pulled your mouth into a naughty smirk, planting your feet on the tabletop as you raised your knees to your chest. the sight of your sopping panties now on full display to the rest of your house, the ghosts of warm memories swimming around you as you drink in the sight of the blond man under you. a raspy moan escaped from your lips as Sanji tugged the supple skin of your neck with his teeth, hungrily satisfying your flesh as his hands wandered down to your hips.

his slender fingers hooked under the thin elastic of your panties, the pastel pink fabric darkened with your arousal. you lifted your hips into him once more, inviting him to pull them off and take you. Sanji has always been fluent in your body's language, taking your wordless request into consideration as he obeyed your command. the room's stuffy draft drifted cooly over the heat rising from your core, the sensation urging your craving to be touched. you craned your neck back, raking your fingers through messy blonde waves as you gave Sanji full access to the expansive plane of skin. his lips surged into yours as his fingers trailed softly between your folds, your slick painting his fingertips. his teasing touch caused you to moan against his ear, the absence of necessary friction driving you crazy.

"touch me harder," you pleaded, writhing your hips into his touch.

Sanji pulled his fingers away instantly, earning an irritated groan from you. his hands caressed the supple skin around your pulsing cunt, gently massaging circles to ease your tensing muscles below.

"shhh, it's okay sweetheart. we have time," Sanji hushed gently, one of his palms cupping your cheek.

leaning into his touch, you huffed and shuddered under his intense gaze. your cheeks flushed a fierce pink as your bottom half lay open and exposed, his own growing erection dangerously close to your cunt. his thumb brushed your bottom lip lightly, the slick of your saliva gliding it effortlessly into your mouth. your tongue hollowed as you tasted his finger, twisting and sucking it further down your throat. the smell of smoke and ash intoxicating as you tasted his fingertips, growing envious of the addiction he spends so much time satisfying. you never broke eye contact as you did so, watching his resolve crumble with every swipe and stroke. completely mesmerized by the way your head bobbed around his finger, Sanji dove further, earning a sweet gag out of you.

"will you fuck me now?" you asked around his finger, tone thick and full with arousal. your fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt, undoing them agonizingly slow to reveal your breasts.

Sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second.

his slick thumb trailed down your exposed middle, each pass igniting a flame as he inched closer and closer to your needy pussy. you watched breathlessly as he met your core, his finger tracing lazy circles over your swollen clit. every rub sent jolts of electricity deep into your stomach, muscles beginning to constrict as your orgasm builds. Sanji's hand found its way into your bra, kneading the plush skin of your breast as he stimulated you below. the attention drove you wild, your breath hitching in your throat as it grew unbearable. you needed him inside you, needed him to brutally attack that gummy spot that sent you reeling.

Sanji lowered himself between your thighs, his warm breath ghosting over your drooling cunt. he exhaled a satisfied groan as he slid a finger inside, twisting and hooking to tease your g-spot.

"so needy," he purred, placing a tender kiss on your puffy clit. you flinched from the contact, rocking your hips into his rhythm as he eased in a second finger. "its hard to believe you could work in these conditions, my love. you're so tense! use me, baby. use me to let go and relief yourself."

a whiny, pitchy moan dragged out from your lips, throwing your head back as he pumped ferociously inside of you. Sanji's tongue teased and suckled at your flesh simultaneously, lapping up your sweet nectar as you slowly released around his hold. just as your thighs began to tremble and twitch, Sanji removed his fingers, your cunt pulsing frantically in their absence. it wasn't long before he dove back in, replacing his hands with his wild tongue. you writhed as he pried your thighs apart, his firm grasp trying its best to keep you in place. your back hit the thin linen sheet that draped over the dining table, fisting the fabric as you rode your high.

lewd sounds of your slick lapping against his tongue mingled with the clang of rattling silverware, a melody of desperate moans joining the symphony. your hands found their way into his honey-blonde hair once again, Sanji's scalp stinging as you tugged.

"fuck Sanji! right there! don't stop i'm close.." you cried out, eyes watering as you shut them tightly. the moans escaping you were deafening, the old wood beneath you vibrating. you could feel Sanji smiling into you, his lips curling into a smirk as he continued to ravage you.

your neck snapped upwards, chin pressed against your chest as you watched your husband eat you out. the sight alone was enough to make you come — his dark lashes resting softly against his rosy cheeks, the slick of your arousal soaking his face and shirt. you made a mental note to handle his laundry for the next few days, tending to the stain before it could ruin the delicate fabric.

with every buck and roll of your hips, Sanji began to whine into your core, his erection growing painful under the confines of his pants. but he was determined to make you finish right into his mouth. the taste of you was intoxicating, a flavor Sanji never wished to forget. he could devour you for every meal for the rest of his life and not once would he go hungry. you satisfied him, in sex, in love, in life. you were the one, tinkered to perfection just for him.

"come for me, sweetheart" Sanji begged, his fingers sliding into you once more, beckoning for your sweet release. the rhythmic pump and curl of his fingers sending you right over the edge.

your grip on his hair tightened as you brought him into you, his lips suctioning around your aching cunt as he drank you in. in the heat of your orgasm, you cleared the table entirely as you grabbed at anything to stabilize your convulsing body. a cacophony of clattering silverware and shattering ceramic filled the room, then world around you crumbling along with your resolve.

"yes! yes! yes! oh my god—" you exclaimed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clamped your thighs around Sanji's head. the force of your skin into his temples was enough to make his ears ring, a dull pain lingering under your touch. but none of that mattered. the temporary pain Sanji felt in this moment could never amount to the irritation you endured every day away from home. he would do anything to relieve you of that burden, and if suffocating him between your thighs was the way to go, he would do it a thousand times over.

the crippling realization of your actions snapped you out of your euphoria, rising to sit up as you took in the sight around you. shards of white ceramic dishes scattered across the floor, your now-dirty silverware accompanying the mess. you brought your hands to your face, hiding it out of shame.

"i'm so sorry, love. i'll clean it up," you apologized, scooting off the table. a soft hand on your shoulder stops you, Sanji's gaze a mixture of gratitude and sincerity.

"don't even worry about it," he began, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "go wash up and i'll have this all cleaned up by the time you're back!"

you sighed, relieved that after all the work he's been through today, Sanji was still willing to help you. "what did i do to deserve such a loving husband?"

Sanji smiled softly, using his free hand to push the wild strands of hair out of your face. "i've been hooked on you since the day i met you, [y/n]. all you had to do was be yourself."

sanji has worked his way into my heart and i cannot shake this beautiful man i adore him with my entire being

and yes, this inspired by that one scene from ‘don’t worry darling’. it was a calling and who am i to turn down divine intervention?

#one piece #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #straw hat pirates #x reader #straw hat crew #fanfic #scvrgrl

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icaruspendragon · 1 year ago

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Hey I just wanted to say thanks, because idk why this didn't just occur to me, but I've been missing "family" meals, the kind of meals I get to make for people and sit down with people I love since I came out and had to leave my house, and idk why but you posting about having family dinners with your friends where you host them made me realize that like, that's something I can still do. If I don't have the people who will invite me over to eat a meal anymore I can always be the person who invites others over myself and idk, I just wanted to say thanks

this warmed my heart in ways i don’t know how to describe.

family dinner started because i’d get some friends over on tuesdays to watch supernatural prequel the winchesters and i’d make them dinner for their troubles. i was feeding like five people max. but then the show ended and one of my friends got a new job and had to move an hour away so we moved it to the weekend so she could still come.

and then i realized that cooking is actually a form of self care for me (let’s not examine too closely how my self care is still taking care of others, it’s been discussed enough in therapy). so we started inviting other folks. and family dinner went from five people regularly to seven. and then i’d have friends from out of town come and it’d be 15-17. and now it’s not unusual for a dozen people to show up at my house on a saturday night to drink and eat and make merry.

there’s a particular kind of warmth that comes from leaning against the entry to my dining room, glass of wine curled against my chest, seeing so many of the people i love sitting around my table as they laugh and bicker and eat a meal that i used so much love to make. food that i spent hours creating because they gave me the confidence and the desire to learn how to make new things. because the effort it takes for me to make pasta or gnocchi or sauces or broths from scratch is worth it. the hours i will spend standing over a hot stove as i make gumbo or chicken and dumplings or fried everything is worth it. the easy smiles and whiskey-reddened cheeks and raucous laughter and full bellies and warm togetherness is worth the trouble.

it makes me understand the last supper (you know, minus the foreboding of betrayal). there’s a divinity in making a meal to share with those you love.

i’ve yet to find a better way express my devotion than to say, “take this, all of you, and eat of it. for it is my love given up for you.”

because even though the darkness can be chasm-wide and canyon-deep, my love is wider and deeper. it’s the bridge over the consumption of it all.

when people sit at my table and break bread that my hands have tenderly prepared i see the point of it all. loving and be loved in return.

and sometimes that love is stored in poetic words and grand gestures. and sometimes, that love is stored in a stockpot full of soup. but they both accomplish the same thing at the end of the day. warmth and safety and care and devotion.

it’s love. plain and simple and small.

#ayo sorry to get philosophical about making dinner on main #maybe it’s the alabama in me #but i just love cooking for folks #for my family of folks i found along the way #love really is stored in the soup

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silens-oro · 2 months ago

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Slowly We Unfurl (Well Enough Alone Companion Piece)

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece) Part III Part IV Trespassing (companion piece)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist

General Synopsis: A quiet night reflecting. Word Count: 927 Content Warning: no warnings. all fluff. A/N: This companion piece is brought to you by Lotus Flower by Radiohead. Here's some fluff to buffer the absolute nightmare to come :) please comment & reblog :)

Hawk let out a sigh when she reaches over to Pope’s side of the bed and feels nothing but rumpled sheets. Her eyes cracked open and saw that the room was still dark, stars twinkling in the sky outside of her sliding door, and she laid there for a moment contemplating whether or not she wanted to get up out of the comfort of her mattress. She could hear an indistinguishable sound coming from the living room, the television, she surmised, and decided to hoist herself up.

Hawk threw a t-shirt and pajama shorts in, barely opening her eyes as she padded down the hall until she reached the back entrance to the sunken living room. A small table lamp illuminated the room in a soft, warm glow that didn’t quite reach the ceiling. The back of Pope’s head was facing Hawk, and Pope was sitting up on the sofa as the tv’s glow fell over his bare torso. She gently rested a hand on the junction of his neck, just at the edge of his curls, and she felt him twitch beneath her.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Hawk breathed out as she kissed the top of Pope’s head before rounding the sofa and dropping down next to him. He was only wearing his boxer-briefs and his legs were spread just far enough to leave nothing to Hawk’s imagination.

Pope’s arm instantly wrapped itself around Hawk’s shoulders to pull her flush against him, while his other hand pulled her legs over his thighs. His fingers trailed up and down her calf, down to knead under her foot for a moment, then made its way back up. He repeated those motions over and over, switching from leg to leg as they watched the tv.

“What are we watching?” Hawk asked, eyes opening and closing as she fought the pull of sleep from Pope’s ministrations. Her arm was wrapped around his waist, palm flush against his chest as she also tenderly rubbed the bruised skin.

“How the Earth Was Made” He replied with a shrug. The History Channel was already on the tv when he hit the power button in the remote, and he was oddly fascinated with the show the second he sat down.

“Huh.” Hawk raised her own brows in response as she looked up at him. “Is it any good?”

“Stimulating.” Hawk chuckled at Pope’s dry response. Pope had been living with her for nearly a month and it had only been a week since they finally decided to take the proverbial plunge. The time they spent together felt natural, like they had been together for twenty years -and in a way Hawk guessed they kind of were. Kind of.

They were comfortable with each other because they knew one another. Knew their quirks, their likes and dislikes. Knew how the other operated.

Hawk and Pope lounged comfortably in the ambiance of the History Channel for a while before Hawk quietly broke the silence.

“Something keeping you up?” Pope shrugged again, eyes staying locked on the tv. He was watching it, sure, but there was something going on inside of his mind that kept him occupied enough to not stay in bed as he had the previous nights.

“Nothing in particular. Just couldn’t sleep. Old habits.” That wasn’t entirely the truth. A lot of things haunted him when he closed his eyes at night, things he couldn’t ever tell Hawk, so he did the only thing he was proficient at -he suffered in silence. Hawk shifted her legs off of him and scooted over to the other end of the sofa.

“Come here,” Hawk beckoned Pope, patting her lap. Pope twisted to lay on his side, his face pressed into her thigh with a heavy sigh as he brought his legs up to stretch out. He rubbed his cheek against her, finding comfort in the warmth she radiated as he wrapped his arms around her waist. The feeling of his muscles against her body was her own kind of comfort that he provided, whether he knew it or not. Pope was strong, protective, and nurturing in his own way that Hawk was discovering through his own love language.

Acts of service were big for Pope when it came to Hawk. He’d do things for her, not because she asked or expected it, but because he knew she appreciated it when he did them. He’d bring her coffee in the morning before she got out of bed because he got up before she did. One day she found him weeding the garden because he noticed some pesky intruders popping up in her bed of clarkias while they were hanging out by the pool the night before. Pope carried in groceries without being asked even though she told him she’d get them. The list went on and on in Hawk’s mind of little things here and there, and as she looked down at Pope, it scared her to think what life was going to hold with him.

It scared her even more to think of a life without him.

Hawk flipped the switch off to the lamp next to her and darkness draped where the tv’s beams didn’t touch. She ran her fingers through Pope’s curls, occasionally letting the pads of her fingers run over his brows and his eyelids when he finally closed them. Hawk pulled the throw blanket that was hanging over the back of the sofa to cover them as she shifted just enough to get comfortable. It didn’t take long for both of them to pass out, finally getting some well needed rest.

please comment & reblog :)

#pope cody #pope cody x reader #pope cody imagine #animal kingdom #animal kingdom fanfic #animal kingdom tnt #animal kingdom imagine #shawn hatosy #fluff #well enough alone universe

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hey-i-am-trying · 1 year ago

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Qsmp ended but let's keep exchanging culture and language

I think it would be nice if we kept doing it even if we don't have the ccs anymore to be the voices of those exchanges. We could share expressions, untranslatable words or just little words we think are nice. You can also share some culture detail or facts about your country or language.

So, I will start with some of my favorites things in brazilian portuguese.

Untranslatable word

Cafuné - The act of brushing someone's hair tenderly with your fingers.

Anteontem - This one is not very exciting but I found funny that english doesn't have anything similar. It means the day before yesterday.

Expression

While we have a verb that translated to "give birth" (parir), we use "dar à luz" a lot too, the literal translation of this expression is "to give light".

"Amigo da onça" translated to "friend of the jaguar", we use to call someone that fakes to be a friend just to betrayed the person or use them.

Word I just like

Humming birds in portuguese are called beija-flor(flower kisser)

Fun Fact

Although tapioca and cassava are pretty popular in Asia, they are originally brazilian.

One of the most popular foods in a brazilian barbecue is chicken hearts, usually served in a skewer

#qsmp #qsmp language

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delaware-lemme-smash · 3 months ago

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Can I request some headcanons for All Might, Aizawa and Nighteye taking care of their s/o when their sick? I have a wicked cold right now and this would be just amazing. Thank you so much for the work you do

Absolutely I can! Hope you feel better!

Characters: Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

Contents: gn!reader, sickness, medicine

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Toshinori is a little out of his depth the first time you come down with a bug. He's used to playing the big damn hero, swooping in and saving the day, beating the bad guys, and rescuing innocent civilians. But then the civvies et handed off to paramedics, doctors, family and friends. He's never had to look after someone for more than the few minutes it took to rescue them.

He's been in hospital himself with his injuries after the fight with All For One, which does kind of give him the reverse perspective, but it's not quite the same.

When Toshinori is unsure, Toshinori goes over the top. You'll be sitting on the couch, swaddled in a blanket, snoozing or trying to watch TV to distract yourself from your headache and stuffed-up sinuses. Meanwhile, Toshinori will be trundling in and out of the room, offering you endless cup soft tea, chicken soup, extra blankets, more Lemsip.

It's a little much, and each time you refuse one of his offerings, he sidles back into the kitchen and anxiously calls Recovery Girl.

"What is it this time, Toshinori."

"They didn't want the chicken soup! What do I do?"

"Oh, for the love of... Put them on the phone, Toshinori."

He sheepishly hands the phone to you, explaining who it is. When Recovery Girl finds out you just have a cold and aren't wheezing your last, she's even more exasperated than before. She scolds him to stop smothering you and just let you rest, much to your relief. As nice as it is to have Toshinori clucking around you like a big mother hen, offering you ten cups a tea an hour was getting to be a bit much. You felt bad having to refuse him.

It's much nicer just to have him hold you in your blanket swaddle on the couch, while you watch TV and cheesy movies that don't require any brain power to enjoy.

Please do occasionally ask him for things—soup, more tissues, an ice pack for your head—because it will make him feel needed. Toshi's got a hero complex.

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Aizawa's a teacher, so he's hardly a stranger to people being unwell. Teenagers might be not be the walking disease vectors that little kids are, but a school is still basically one giant petri dish, so he's not going to freak out when you're not well.

Don't worry though, he's not going to demand that you Plus Ultra! your way through your illness.

I know Aizawa comes across as a bit of a hardass, especially when it comes to his students, but he also prizes rationality. And logic dictates that when you're sick, you need rest so that your body has the time and resources it needs to fight off the illness.

He won't expect you to be up and at 'em while you're a snot-riddled Kleenex-fiend or while you're throwing your guts up. If you try to go to work, he'll make you call in sick. If you refuse, he'll do it for you, using his best Teacher Voice to browbeat your boss into submission.

"What kind of strategy meeting do you expect to have when they have a fever of 102?"

It is Aizawa, though, so he will expect you to look after yourself as much as you're able while you're sick. He's not going to be tenderly mopping your brow and telling you what a poor dear you are, or spoon-feeding you chicken soup just because you have a cold.

So, if you're the type to act completely helpless or like a little kid when you get ill, whining all day about how bad you feel, you won't get a lot of sympathy from him.

Also, if you refuse to take any medicine (barring medical/religious reasons) or do anything to relieve your symptoms, it frustrates him, because he sees it as martyring yourself for no reason.

"It's an aspirin, not poison."

He can't really call in sick to look after you—he is basically an essential worker—but he will make sure there is someone nearby who can respond to you in an emergency if you get worse or run out of medicine. And he'll have his phone on and check in with you throughout the day.

When he is home, he cooks or orders in, feeds the cats, tidies away your tissues. He pushes your hair back out of your face, calloused palm feeling for your temperature.

"I'm not used to looking like the well-rested one between us two."

The pair of you lay on the couch like a couple of bugs in cocoons. He in his sleeping bag, you in your blanket burrito, covered in cats.

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

Sir Nighteye comes across as so stern and imposing that at first you might be tempted to hide your illness from him. You don't want to bother him with something as small and inconsequential as a cold or a stomach bug. He's a busy guy!

Too bad, Mirai's a very perceptive man even when he's not using his Quirk. If he can put together a plan to dig out a Yakuza gang and spend years being the brains behind All Might, then he can work out that you've got the sniffles.

Much like Aizawa, he's full to the brim with logical, practical advice about how to handle your illness. None of those old wives' tales about putting a slice of onion in your sock 'to suck out the impurities'.

He's a little less slammed than Aizawa, and can delegate to his sidekicks for a day or two while he stays home to keep an eye on you if you're really under the weather.

Despite his stern front, Mirai is a man who cares deeply for the people close to him, and he's not above tending to you.

However, there is one slightly odd thing—he keeps the TV tuned to stand-up at all times. You catch him watching the news on his laptop where he's working away at the kitchen table.

"Mirai, why don't you just watch it on the TV? Also, why has it been tuned to Tokyo Comedy Central for the last two days?"

Mirai looks at you, deadpan, and says solemnly, "Laughter is the best medicine."

Crickets.

"But it hurts to laugh," you protest, the wheeze in your voice clear.

"Very well. Laughter in conjunction with cough syrup."

#delaware-lemme-smash #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #Yagi Toshinori #All Might #All Might x Reader #Aizawa Shouta #Eraserhead #Aizawa x Reader #Sasaki Mirai #Sir Nighteye #Sir Nighteye x Reader

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lxzy-bxby · 3 months ago

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Night Changes

Husband!Leon × Fem!Reader

Summary: Nine months of navigating through a new path. WC: 6,078 CW: MDNI ♡ SMUT (breeding kink-ish+unprotected p-in-v+creampie-ish) ♡ TOPICS (chubby body+self-negativity+non-acceptance of aging) ♡ No use of Y/N ♡ Explicit language ♡ No proofreading AN: i hope you all will find a person who'll make it way easier to dive into scary depths. or you can become one to yourself. love is boundless, love is strength, love is power. that relates to self-love, too. we all are driven by love. love wins all. and every human being is worthy of it.

~ ♡ ~

Dining table is bursting with dishes—something that haven’t happened in a long time. Even though Leon finally retired and you two now could finally have meals together, you usually settled with simple omelette or lasagna. But tonight you went all out, using this as an opportunity to show off your impeccable culinary skills. You even insisted that Leon needs to bring the most expensive wine from the basement, because a reason like this is a must—your daughter and her husband visiting for dinner.

You fuss around her as if she’s five years old again, refilling her and your son-in-law’s plates and glasses. You glance at the table, checking if you forgot to get them anything—caviar, roast beef, Caesar salad, mushrooms… You decide that there's not enough of mashed potatoes on Grace’s plate and lean over to put some more.

Leon’s arm immediately snakes around your waist, tugging you down persistently. “Take a seat already, will you? Scampering around like a decapitated chicken, and your own plate’s still full.”

That grounds you a big little. You suddenly feel very embarassed because you’re running around like a madwoman, indeed. So you take a seat, immediately grabbing your cutlery while your husband’s hand makes itself welcome on your thigh underneath the table.

Comfortable silence draws out whilst everyone enjoy their food; only occasional clatter of forks disturbs it.

Then Leon clears his throat. “So, how you’ve been settling in? House’s good? Need any fixing?”

Grace’s lips immediately stretch out in a giddy smile. “It’s great! I can’t believe we got a place of our own already. All thanks to you two.”

“Come on now, honey. We’re your parents. It was our duty to make sure you got a place to live in after you grow up.” You smile chastely, barely realizing what you’re talking about— your daughter’s very own dwelling. That she shares with her husband.

“So I take it place’s alrighty, huh? With the way you smilin’.” Leon grumbles, twirling a glass of beer—like hell he would drink wine—in his hand.

“Yeah, of course!” Gracie nods eagerly, “Everything’s perfect. Anyway, I got Owen with me, so if anything happens, y’all don’t have to worry.” She turns to smile at her husband tenderly. He smiles back at her as he strokes her knuckles lovingly.

Your heart melts at the view—yet Leon’s jaw tenses. You bite on your lip.

Owen’s a good guy—great, even. Him and your daughter met back in college just a few years ago and he, being two school years older, proposed as soon as she graduated. Money was never a problem for your family with Leon’s salary, yet your kid decided to have a small wedding—memorable one, nonetheless. Two months ago the two celebrated their first wedding anniversary.

So yeah, you’re cool with Owen. He got a tech major, earns the big bucks, got a car and a house—but Leon was adamant on the newlyweds living in a residential that you two got for Grace in advance back when she was barely out of high school, and on your daughter still driving her own Camry she got on her sweet sixteen, not just Owen’s G-Wagen. Just because Leon is Leon, who still couldn’t believe that your little bird flies out of her nest. Another man is now responsible for her—not him. And that drove him crazy.

Hence no wonder he looks like a kicked doberman puppy, realizing that your girl does not need to run to him for help anymore. So now you always have to play the victim (or more a hero who saves his ego) and be the one who needs his help all the time, no matter what with—opening the water bottle or moving your vanity to another corner of the room.

You intertwine your fingers with Leon's under the table in gesture of silent affection. He relaxes a tad, one corner of his mouth twitching up wryly.

Your daughter and her husband exchange a glance. You see Gracie chewing on her lips as Owen whispers “it’s okay, baby”, stroking her cheek reverently.

“Speaking of that… I think it’s better we move to my house nevertheless, Mrs. Kennedy.” Owen suddenly speaks up, his gaze locking with yours.

You arch your eyebrow, feeling Leon tense again next to you, as well. “Why’s that? Didn’t you just convince me you enjoy your new home?”

Leon turns his face away demonstratively. As if he isn’t like this with you all the time, you snicker inwardly.

Grace abruptly stands up, so does Owen. Your brows fly even higher up as you realize that something’s about to be revealed. While your eyes zero out on the couple, your hand blindly reaches out for Leon’s on pure distressed instinct, and he catches it immediately, squeezing reassuringly.

“Mom, Dad…” Gracie starts hesitantly, her eyes flickering between you and Leon. “I… We’re having a baby. You’re gonna be grandparents.”

…

Air gets knocked out of your lungs.

“What?” You and Leon utter in unison, eyes wide as saucers.

“…Here,” Owen pushes a small gift box, tied with a bow, towards you two. “Gracie prepared those for everyone, wanted to make it special, but got too nervous tonight to follow the plan.”

You tear the wrapping with shaky hands and open the box. Inside, nestled on top of pink and blue paper shavings, lays a oh-too-familiar to you stick with two pink lines. While you take it, Leon grabs a stacked piece of fabric situated next to it. As he unfolds it, it turns out to be a tiny infant bodysuit—white with black ‘THE BEST PARENTS get promoted to GRANDPARENTS’ printed in cursive over it. You stare at it, dumbfounded, and feel tears already trailing down your cheeks.

“No way…” You all but whimper, rubbing your misty eyes.

Seeing the way Grace grows more and more pale with every second, you jump onto your feet and rush towards your daughter, squeezing her in your arms.

“How long… since when… How are you feeling, baby?” You mutter somewhere to her shoulder, fully crying now.

“I’m okay… Nauseous sometimes, and can’t fully realize the whole thing, but… Better than I imagined.” Grace smiles softly, rubbing your back.

“Yeah, toxicosis can be rough… But it’ll pass, baby. Ginger or herbal tea works good…” You give Grace a whole damn speech, completely forgetting about anything and anyone else.

Leon just slumps in his seat, his face unreadable. Not hostile… but impenetrable. While you busy smoldering your daughter, he eyes Owen, clears his throat, then gets up, walks up to him and pats his back.

“You do realize if you hurt her given this predicament you put my daughter in, from now on I won’t just cut off your head—I’ll cut off your balls as well, right?” He says, making Grace’s husband laugh nervously.

“Leon!” You chide him sternly, but get zero response.

“Swear to me she’ll never regret bearing kid conceived from you.” Leon demands, looking the young man dead in the eyes.

“I swear, Mr. Kennedy.” Owen replies right away, his eyes meeting Leon’s. It’s like their gazes are fighting—and none is willing to submit.

You interfere, practically dragging Leon from him. “Stop it. It’s about your daughter. Don’t you dare starting your testosteronish feud.”

Gracie laughs heartily. “You are grey, Dad!”

Leon’s jaw clenches, yet he doesn’t object and just nods before he walks over to Grace, who looks at him timidly.

“So that’s why you wasn’t drinking… Decided to make me a gaffer before I even go grey, huh?” He mutters as he embraces your daughter protectively.

“And you’re way too young to be pregnant.” Leon grumbles, squeezing her tight.

“I’m literally in my mid-twenties!” She exclaims. “Didn’t Mom have me even earlier?”

“Yeah well, I knew that I risked becoming cockless when I knocked her up. Does your husband know?” He throws another glare at Owen.

You switch to drastic measures. “Kennedy.”

“Which one?” Leon inquires nonchalantly.

”I’m not a Kennedy anymore!” Gracie chuckles, clearly more relaxed now.

“Like hell you aren’t.” Leon rumbles, displeased, only hugging her tighter. “Was born as one, will always be one.”

You nod, surprised, because when you found out you was pregnant with her, you already was pushing the whole ass third month—completely ignoring the constant throwing up, believing it was just a stomach bug, as if Leon didn’t shoot his loads deep inside of you almost every night before.

“You know how far along you are, baby?” You smile at your daughter, trying to get everyone back to safe kinda conversation territory.

“Ah, not far at all. Just nearing three weeks.” Grace mirrors your smile, trying to squirm out of her father’s grasp—and failing.

“So… barely one month in, huh?” Leon mutters. “A bumpy road ahead, then. Considering the fact that we thought you was throwing goddamn parties back in your mother’s womb… Got me wonderin’ if that passes down through generations.”

“Don’t scare her, Leon!” You hiss as you swat at him lightly. “It’s going to be okay, baby. Just take care of yourself and let Owen take charge.”

Gracie, obviously not scared since she barely understood what she gotten herself into, just laughs. “Sure thing, Ma—oh, I’m sorry, I meant grandma.”

You snicker, “Not funny. Your father’s gonna go into cardiac arrest or send your husband into traumatic surgery if you’ll keep going.” You then pat her back, lightly pushing both Leon and Owen towards the table. “C’mon, back to dinner, everyone! We surely do have a thing to feast about now.”

You put your Kindle on your nightstand and turn the lights on your side off. Gloom envelops the bedroom as you rest your head on your pillow, exhaling. You surely do need to get a nice sleep after the news that got thrown at you tonight.

~ ♡ ~

1st Month

Leon’s side of the bed is eerily quiet. You roll a bit closer, wondering if he’s even breathing. He does—and stares at the ceiling in the dark, that one Passenger song vibe.

“Same old empty feeling in your heart?” You hum intoning, unable to resist.

Leon drifts his eyes to you, gazing at you like you’re a fucking halfwit.

You decide to bury yourself further. “Well… Y’know, need the light when it’s burning low, need the sun when it starts to sn— Okay, bad timing, right. Sorry, sorry.”

With the way he looks at you, you’re positive he’s divorcing you as soon as the sun is up.

So there’s no bounds to your surprise when his arms tug you to his chest, his nose burying in your hair. You freeze, not knowing any better what to do, just letting him sniff and squeeze and do anything else to you.

“Can’t fucking believe it.” Leon mumbles, voice muffled against the top of your head. “I’m going to gift this asshole condoms for the rest of his goddamn life.”

You chuckle, rubbing his bare back. “She was going to get pregnant eventually. Owen’s not the worst option. I think he’s gonna be a good dad. And he treats Gracie great, never heard a complaint from her.”

Leon scoffs. “Good dad my ass. She’s gonna call him Daddy now, not me! I mean when referring to him while speaking to her spawn, y’know. That’s fucking insane.”

“Babe, you need to calm down. Won’t do your heart any good.” You trace his vertebrae with your fingertips.

“Take that back,” Leon frowns, raising his head. “What do you think I am, seventy?”

You giggle, poking his skin gently. “You’re pushing fifty, hon.”

”FYI… Well, first things first, I know what FYI means. And also, I’m still pretty much in my prime.” Leon declares as his hands go wandering shamelessly, settling on your butt-cheeks.

“So what now? Thinkin’ I’m offside now?” He grumbles, sliding a bit lower on the bed.

“Just stating the facts.” You shrug as he pulls you on top of him.

”I didn’t dispute, babe.” You laugh. “I’m not getting any younger as well.”

”You are younger than me.” He grumbles, kneading your ass. “But, I’ll always be able to get it up with you looking that smoking hot.”

That makes you laugh even harder. “Well, why’d you think about that? If I remember correctly, we got zero problems with you gettin’ it up.”

“That’s right. And you’re currently doing a great job at getting it up. Layin’ here ass up, putting those titties on me.” Leon smirks as his palm slaps your rear lightly.

You squeak, making his grin go only wider. He squeezes your flesh for a bit more before his gaze suddenly grows serious, his hand stills as his eyes search yours. “Wanna knock you up again.”

You choke on your saliva. “That so?”

“Mhm.” He hums as he pushes you off him softly, his lips travelling down your neck. “Curious if I still can.”

You let out a shaky breath. “So planning on giving it a try?”

Leon nods, his fingers already slipping underneath your underwear. “Right away, gorgeous.”

You squeeze out a sound of acknowledgment, your chest rumbling with barely contained laughter.

The dude who was dead set on proving you that aging does not affect him, forgot you got an IUD.

You wipe your palms on your apron before taking it off finally.

~ ♡ ~

2nd Month

”Babe, dinner!” You call out as you hang you apron on a rack.

“Yeah thanks, hon.” Leon mutters from the living room, and you stick your head out to see what he’s been up to. Usually he rushes straight into kitchen.

What you didn’t except to see is your husband on the couch, flipping the pages of pink photo album, “GRACE ISABELLA KENNEDY (Gracie) Born 04/22/20** 05:12 AM” written in your hand at the cover.

“Haven’t opened this thing since her birthday this year.” You smile, taking a seat next to him.

Leon keeps silence. You gently squeeze his free hand.

“She’s been so teeny. Puffy cheeks, bunny teeth before she convinced us to get her braces, always peeing her diapers at 3 A.M. And she always wrote letter ‘R’ backwards, remember?” He croaks out, fingers tracing his favourite photo—you, two decades younger, holding a pink bundle in your arms by the entrance of maternity hospital.

“She did.” You smile softly.

Leon sighs deeply, staring into the picture for a few more minutes. “I never thought she’d grow up so fast. Feelin’ like a selfish bastard, but I wish she’d stay with us forever.”

You move even closer to him, embracing his larger frame. “Hey. She’s still our daughter. Just an adult now.”

He leans closer to you, molding your bodies together. “Nah. Never gonna be able to perceive her that way.”

You sigh, resting you head on Leon’s shoulder. His fingers comb through your hair absently, lost in thought. You know you need to give him time to accept this whole thing, and you just hope it’ll be better as it’ll go.

But he needs to consume at least some freaking food even more.

“You have to eat.” You nudge Leon gently, getting up and pulling him with you.

With zero objections and a grouchy ‘yes ma’am’, he follows your lead and plops down once again by the table.

You both go to bed early that night. In the morning when putting his phone off charger, you catch a glimpse of his lockscreen.

The very same picture of you and newborn Gracie he was staring at last night.

“And those pictures she sent tonight, right? She’s showing already, I can’t wrap my head aroun— Fuck… feel so good, baby.” Leon grunts as he fucks you into the mattress.

~ ♡ ~

3rd Month

You’d eagerly carry on the conversation if his cock wasn’t slamming your cervix every time you try to inhale. All you’re able to do is to let out filthy moans, clutching on to his back as he wrecks your cunt in missionary.

Leon pants, his dick pistoning in and out of you in a steady pace, not rushed yet penetration is still deep enough to turn your brain into mush. But Leon doesn’t even seem to fucking notice—except for moments when your walls flutter around his shaft—and just plunges into your pussy absentmindedly.

…Just your casual white noise type of sex. Isn’t that common among all the other couples?

“Just thinking about it… That’s my grandkid my kid is carrying.” He rasps, holding your upper side a bit above the bed.

He pulls away from your mouth; string of saliva connecting you breaks as soon as he starts to speak. “…How far along she gotta be to know the gender?”

He’s in you so deep, you honestly can’t even realize how he’s able to speak coherently. You just moan as he bottoms out once again, dick nestled so far in you—you only see his greying pubic hair when looking down at where you two are connected and his balls pressing against the slit of your ass. You let out another moan, even more dirty, as he slams back into you after almost pulling out completely, and grasp his head to pull him into the sloppiest kiss human could ever perform. That’s why you both love missionary—licking into each other’s mouths while his cock gives your cunt a straightforward beating. Leon prefers you riding him a little bit more, though, but with those creaking bones and aching joints you thought it’d be more like a circus touring in your bed.

Leon snarls hoarsely into your mouth, as if just realizing that you two are actually in the middle of pretty much something, and his tongue attacks yours. You two kiss like wild animals, licking and sucking, and, from the way his hips start moving faster and messier, you suppose that eases his mind a little.

At this point, you just whine.

“They planned gender party for next month, can we please stop discussing things like this during moments like these?” You mewl, trying to pull him back in to lick and kiss and suck and bite his lips.

Leon succumbs, his lips moving against yours for couple of seconds more—and then he’s off again. “Those youngters… What the fuck even is gender pa—”

”Leon,” Something in between of moan and groan slips off your lips as you move your hips to meet his, capturing one of his palms and bringing it down to your wailing clit. He blinks, looking at you guiltily, before getting back to business and torturing your swollen nub, rolling it between his calloused fingers while his cock moves so fast, probably trying to dig a fucking hole inside of you.

You cry out, your whole body jolting from the intensity, tits jumping up and down. One of your nipples is suddenly in his mouth, thumb rubbing your clit in systematic circles and dick hitting that same spot with every thrust.

Quite enough for you to cum. You’re not getting any younger, Leon doesn’t too—yet this time he lasts even longer than you, too deep in thoughts to bust a nut as soon as your walls milk him for cum.

He finally registers your cunt pulsating around him and growls lowly, fucking you through your orgasm. You keep mewling while he chases his own release, squeezing your sides.

With a shuddering moan, he enters you balls-deep as his cock twitches inside of you and floods your guts with hot thick cum. He pumps in and out a few more times, some of fluid spilling out of you, but you’re too blissed-out to pay attention to anything going on inside or outside.

Leon collapses on top of you, still not pulling out, his cock sheltering inside of your snug and warm cunt. That feels as good as a bit overstimulating—but again, too blissed-out.

He rolls you two to the side, him facing you. “You alright?” Leon whispers, brushing some wet strands of hair off your forehead.

You nod, tugging him closer to you. He complies, connected to you in every way possible.

Leon lets out a deep sigh. “I swear I’m going goddamn nuts. Thinking about this whole shitshow while fuckin’ the tightest cunt.”

You hum. “I get it, no worries. But I honestly thought I’d kill you if you didn’t shut up and make me cum.”

Leon chuckles, velvety and warm.

Not before his expression changes completely.

“I… I didn’t pull out while busting, y’know right?”

You look down at where you two are connected eloquently. Take a fucking guess, you think.

Leon grows even paler. “Listen, I… I gotta get you a plan B. I know I told you I wanted to knock you up again, but that was like in heat, you know… We’re gonna have our hands full with Gracie’s kiddo already. I mean, do you want another one? Would you be able to carry it? We can discuss, but— Not right now maybe, huh babe? …Wait, you didn’t get menopause yet, right?”

You enjoy the look on his face while you burst out laughing—the power this man has over you, making you nicker stupid after making you cum even more stupid.

And you definitely ain’t planning on telling him about your godforsaken intrauterine.

You almost have steam is coming out of your ears.

~ ♡ ~

4th Month

“Couldn’t you ask me for it at home?” You hiss, tying Leon’s tie. “Why in the hell would you even wear a goddamn suit to a baby shower? We look like crazy.”

He just grins smugly, and you—by pure accident—tug on his tie a little bit too much.

Gracie’s gender party is hosted in the backyard of her and Owen’s house. Nothing fancy, just balloons, confetti, little jar where guests can put their predictions in.

You know it’s a girl. So you do put a pink little sticker inside, while Leon just grunts and says that this whole thing is stupid. You saw him throwing a pink sticker inside twenty minutes ago, though.

You glance around awkwardly, feeling like you two were odd ones out. You wore a simple floral sundress while Leon went all out—even combing his hair.

Country music plays quietly in the background from the speaker; you snitch a fruity canapé you yourself made an hour ago from small table with polka-dotted tablecloth in the corner.

“Gather up, everyone!” Gracie’s happy voice rings out.

She truly is glowing, her bump visible in a yellow sundress and golden locks spilling over her delicate shoulders. The way her husband looks at her makes you happy—so happy you don’t even notice that your own husband looks at you the very same way while you clap your hands excitedly.

You suppose someone’s gaze lingers on you way too long for Leon’s liking, because next second his arm snatches your waist tightly, pulling your body closer to his side.

Pink.

You two watch as your daughter takes her stance next to her husband, both clutching needles—yeah, that simple—and as soon as the small crowd chants ‘three’, they pop the pink and blue balloons.

The myriad of confetti splashes onto the green lawn.

A girl.

A granddaughter.

Tears escape your eyes before your brain even registers what your orbs saw. You hear everyone cheering, see Owen kissing Grace, notice that thanks God someone snaps a picture.

And what you feel is Leon’s hands enveloping your waist while his lips settle on yours, kissing you tenderly and slowly.

You want to protest, to tell him that you two should make it about Gracie, that him kissing you right now probably looks out of place and attention-seeking, but instead you just return the kiss, arms circling his neck.

That truly is magnificent—the way the product of your love creates another human out of the very same love.

Soapy water skims down your body as you rub your sternum with a loofah. Showers are your own kind of therapy. Steamy or chilly, quick or continuous… Like a physical reincarnation.

~ ♡ ~

5th Month

“Is gifting them pink onesie gonna be sexist? I’m not tryna joke about it, really, know that’s serious, I get it that colors are stigmatized, but… I dunno, pink is cute. For boys, too. Stereotypes suck. But they’re havin’ a girl. Will that make them think I’m an old goofer who believes that pink is strictly girly?”

Ah, yes.

Must not forget velcro-husband.

Whenever people came over and saw you two walking out of bathroom together, they told you to get a room. When you reassured them that you just washed your hands while he did potty, they looked at you like you told them you kick puppies.

And of course everybody considered it a necessity to mention that your marriage will flop if you’ll keep doing grossy things in presence of each other.

Well yikes, because it did not flop, in fact. You always have someone to talk to whenever you use bathroom. And those jerks have not. So fuck them.

You snicker, shampooing your hair. “I like pink. Gracie does too. Think that will do. But we shall go for neutrals, too. Like… beige, white, gray. We can go take a look, like… Target, dunno. Walmart. Or baby store.”

Concept of shame stops existing when you’re nearing your pearl anniversary.

So if he takes a piss while you’re showering, that does not mean you’ll stop wanting to ride his cock until it goes flaccid later that night.

Leon snorts. “Yeah well, haven’t done baby shopping in a minute.”

You snort as well, gaze flickering briefly to him. He winks at you, as if he isn’t currently aiming to the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes, turning your face back to shower wall, lips twitching in a smile. Goofball.

Leon tucks himself back in, flushing the toilet and as you reach for the soap bar, he’s already next to you, arms pulling you close to his chest.

“My God, won’t you at least take your clothes off?” You gasp, feeling thin and soaked through fabric of his shirt rubbing against your bare back.

“Nah. Want you to see that I’d make any sacrifices in the name of love.” He grins, squeezing your tits.

Your eyes wander to the floor, suddenly self-conscious. For millionth time—you’re not getting any younger. Obviously he has seen you in your not the best shape when you recovered from childbirth, but that was decades ago. Now it’s different.

You’re aging.

He does, too—but he’s a man. He’d be considered a DILF. You’d be considered an victim of cyberbullying.

You see first grey hairs on your head, you gain weight—and you never was skinny by standards in the first place, you feel your skin stretched and taut and changed and you think you look like a piece of shit.

Until he’s next to you—and you suddenly feel like you’re Victoria’s Secret angel or something.

Somehow he reads it all in your gaze.

”I’d put you on cover of Playboy right now.” Leon smirks, his hands sliding down to your hips.

“You’d be the only one to buy this issue, then.” You joke, throwing your head back to rest it on his shoulder.

“Of course. Because there’d be only one issue, silly. I wouldn’t want those models to lose their jobs and throw eggshels to our windows.” He deadpans, stroking the dough of your thighs softly. “Or deal with paparazzi.”

You chuckle, then smiling softly. “You’re unbearable. But… that does make me feel better.”

Leon hums, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck and then casually striking you with the most romantic and deep shit you’ve ever heard. “When I married you, I married the fact that I want to go through it all with you, be young and in love, grow old and grumpy together. Sure as hell I did not marry your flesh. It tells our story, you know.” He traces a scar on your leg. “That was when I forgot my wallet and we had to run before they’d get us our check.” He then moves to your stomach. “This one is not here currently, but there was a mark of you carrying Gracie.”

He then cups your face, tracing a wrinkle right under your eye. “And this one… a milestone. With a claim of spending lifetime together.”

Leon swipes off the tear that forms exactly there a second later, then kissing the soft skin.

You open your mouth, close it again, and when you open it next time, you close it around his lips.

Because, after all, all the fairy-tales do end with a kiss from Prince Charming. Even if he dadjokes and keeps asking where are the socks he currently is wearing.

“Look, we have to get this one!” You exclaim as you hold up one of the tiny bodysuits for Leon to see. It’s adorable—baby pink with a big bow and ‘princess since day one’ written in the middle.

~ ♡ ~

6th Month

He chuckles, nodding. “When you was pregnant with Gracie, we barely bought something… that nice. Good thing your side of the family gifted us tons of all this stuff.”

You smile meekly. “I do remember. That’s why I try to… compensate it, I guess. By gifting her own daughter tons of all this stuff.”

Leon’s face softens, his arms wrapping around your shoulders. “Then let’s shop to your heart’s content.”

You move through aisles, Leon obediently collecting everything to your basket—booties, sliders, vests.

”We can’t forget diapers!” You exclaim, “Those are so expensive nowadays. Especially since Owen’s family insisted on buying all those strollers and bassinets. Oh Gosh, can’t forget car seat, too!” You keep rambling.

Leon pecks your cheek with a chuckle. “It’s like you’re shopping for your own.”

”It is my own. My… grandkid.” You declare, grabbing a pack of Pampers.

You two keep navigating through the store, his arm around your waist. By the time you spend 15 more minutes, your basket is full with baby stuff.

“May I help you?” You hear friendly voice from behind; turn around only to see a sales assistant, nice young lady.

“Uh, no, thanks, we’re good.” You smile sweetly.

“Got it. Don’t hesitate to ask for help if anything. And congratulations on your journey!” She returns the smile, subtly eyeing your stomach.

Your cheeks flush. “I-it’s for our daughter. I-I mean, she’s having a baby! So it’s for her baby. Yeah.”

Smile of the woman falters, but she pulls it on once again, nodding understandingly. “Ah, I see. My apologies, ma’am. Like I said, don’t hesitate to reach out for assistance.”

She walks away, and you turn to Leon.

”Do I… look that young?” You mutter.

Leon snickers, patting your back. “You have no idea, baby.”

Immediate confidence-boost. As if he didn’t try to prove the same thing to you every other night.

“So, have you thought of names?” You smile softly, feeling Grace’s bump reverently.

~ ♡ ~

7th Month

The living room of their house is cozy, even more so in expectancy of arrival. You sit next to Gracie on the couch while Leon and Owen sit on armchairs across you two.

“Ah, that…” Gracie suddenly smiles conspiratorially. Then her gaze softens; she looks directly in your eyes. “Well… You’re getting a namesake, Mom.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice.

You think that you probably look stupid blinking that much.

“Huh?”

Owen pipes in since Gracie barely contains her happy giggles, “We’re naming her after you and my mother, Mrs. Kennedy. Your name first, since you’re Gracie’s mom. My mother’s name gonna be the middle one. Just thought… We feel like this is the right thing to do, considering how much you put into our family. Besides, we do like your name quite a lot. Hope you do not mind?” He smiles warmly.

So you do another thing you do perfectly—cry.

“Aw, come on now, Mom! I always told you your name is so pretty.” Grace wraps her arms around you, her belly bumping into your side.

You catch Leon’s gaze, his mouth stretched in a grin. “I suppose you’re plannin’ on making a boy and naming him after me?”

Grace snickers. “Nah, Dad. That’s Mom-exclusive option.”

“Right. After all, she did all the hard job.” Leon smiles, getting up lazily and making his way to you.

”Why do you all make everything about me…” You mutter, finding solace in his arms.

”Everything has always been about you, babe. It’s only you just noticing.” He breathes to your ear, pressing your head close to his chest.

More like close to cloud nine.

You barely slept recently. The closer Grace’s due date is, the more nervous you get.

~ ♡ ~

8th Month

So to prevent yourself from going completely nuts, you go ahead and deep clean. The whole damn house.

Even the attic.

Especially the attic.

Attic resembles a history book. A very sad one at that, you think as you discover a bag full of Gracie’s old things.

Realization of your kid growing up hit you way too late. Even Leon seemed to get used to the thought.

Her favourite stuffed teddy bear, the one you stitched over and over again. Her AC/DC teeshirt, because your girl had an emo-phase like a decent lady should. Her old iPod, Harry Styles on lockscreen. And a pile of her drawings.

Long story short, you cried. Again. Of course you did. Not just cried. Weeped. Wailed.

Sticking to the role of mother for recent years of your life, you suddenly feel… lost. Undue.

It finally gets to you that you are getting older indeed, for Christ’s sake. And you have no idea what to do about it.

So it’s just you, your existential crisis and Gracie’s drawings in the attic.

Then you discover her baby blanket, and you swear to God you’ll never visit attic again.

And that’s exactly how you fall asleep—hugging your grown-ass daughter’s baby blanket.

When you wake up, you’re not in attic. You’re in your bed. With Leon next to you. He’s deep asleep already, but still grips you tight and keeps you close to him.

Your heart clutches in your chest. So he carried you.

Out of dark and into the light.

Literally and figuratively.

So when you smear a kiss against his cheek and he pulls you closer reflexively, you realize something important.

He’s here. He really is here. Always was. Always is. Always will be.

Literally and figuratively.

8lbs, 21ln, 1:27 PM.

~ ♡ ~

9th Month

Your granddaughter was born.

Of course you firstly check on your own daughter, making sure she’s in one piece, helping her drink and eat and do anything she needs.

Then the nurse brings in your granddaughter, and you just have zero idea what to do. Just like a first-time mother all over again.

You hold her tiny body, support her tiny head, look at her tiny eyes, gently touch her tiny nose… and feel like you have gone through another pregnancy.

Technically, you have.

“Looks just like her mama, right?” Leon rasps right above your ear.

You jolt at the word, but then you snap your head towards Gracie and realize that you’re not the only mother here now.

“Can you help me hold her?” Leon says quietly, and you immediately give him a big smile.

You guide him, making sure his hands hold the newborn tight and secure. Seeing him with a baby feels surreal; he’s all giddy and hesitant. Just like a first-time father all over again.

You move closer to Leon, perching your chin on his shoulder.

“Does it feel any different for you? Well, I mean from Gracie. Because I honestly feel the same. Nervous, all that shit… You’d guess I’d be seasoned by now.” Leon chuckles, tracing infant’s puffy cheek.

“That’s the thing that will never change.” He corrects you as he gently passes the babygirl back to her mother.

You do not take your eyes off him when you reply. “It does not. Not when I’m with you. That’s the thing that never changes.”

Leon’s eyes dart towards you, so tender and affectionate you feel butterflies.

Then you finally lock eyes and lips.

Both having to navigate a new chapter of your life. Just like a first-time grandparents.

It’s simple as that—if he’s by your side, then you’re ready to.

With him being your constant amongst all the changes.

~ ♡ ~

We're only gettin' older, baby

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

But there's nothin' to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x female reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil smut #Spotify

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fandomnerd9602 · 5 months ago

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Farmer’s Market

Country!Wanda x Reader

Life around the Maximoff farm was falling into a lovely little routine.

Every morning, Pietro would head out to check on the crops and cattle. You and Wanda would go check on the eggs and chickens and horses.

By around 8, you would head into the little office that Piet got set up for you and do some work on your laptop. Meanwhile, Wanda would go and practice with her band the Good Witch Scarlett.

By the evening, you’d find yourself either cuddled with your favorite country girl on the couch or the three of you would head to the local watering hole where Wanda’s band would perform. They had been enjoying a new wave of popularity recently, even getting some talks with an agent. You were happy being your country girl’s manager for now.

You and Wanda found yourselves going to one of your favorite little outings during the week: the local farmer’s market. True, Pietro and his gal Crystal loved to run your little stall at the market too. It made for a nice little date day with your gal.

Pietro got to bring in a good source of income and trade with the rest of the farmers around your little town. Meanwhile you and Wanda got to wander the market arm in arm. No better way to spend a Saturday or Sunday afternoon in your mind.

One such day at the farmer’s market, you and Wanda wandered the stalls and came face to face with Agatha who was running a little jewelry stall.

“Hey stranger,” Agatha said with a smile, “fancy seeing you two here.”

“Hey Agatha” your gal smiled, looking at the handcrafted necklaces that her old friend made. “I swear ya get better and better with each necklace.”

“Ah shucks” Agatha said with a giggle, “thank you”

One particular necklace caught Wanda’s eye. It was a beautiful ruby stone necklace with intricate gold tracing around it. You noticed how your country gal was eyeing it up.

“How much for this necklace?” you asked.

“Five bucks if you throw in a little box of your famous Maximoff strawberries” Agatha responds.

You hand her a ten dollar bill as Wanda rushes back and grabs a little box of strawberries from Pietro’s stall.

“Thanks Agatha” you whisper to her as she puts the necklace in a small velvet box.

“Wanda’s a good pal of mine.” she shrugs, “I’ve never seen her as happy as she is when she’s with you. Best to take care of her, got it?”

“I will” you respond as Wanda comes back with the box of strawberries for her old pal.

You tenderly took the necklace out and put it around Wanda’s neck. Her emerald eyes just stared into yours adoringly.

“It fits perfectly” you remarked with a smile.

“Just like you for me, city boy” she smirked before pulling you into a small yet powerful kiss.

“Get a room you two” Agatha snickers, “or a barn”

Tags @lifespectator @idkwhatever580 @julieromanoff @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @olsenmyolsen

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #country girlfriend #country girl #country Wanda #elizabeth olsen

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girl-lostconnection · 4 months ago

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Watching cooking documentary on Netflix (“Salt fat acid heat”, if anyone likes them as much as I do) and it got me thinking about Simon Riley with S/O that brings tasty gifts from their travels.

Cheeses and cured meats and teas and full on recipes to try at home. The man comes home from deployment, sees his sweetheart’s bags and practically throws himself through the door because god, he’s eating GOOD that evening.

The house smells heavenly, there is already something on the stove and there are the array of cheeses and meats on the countertops, beautifully cut and presented with some cut fruits. And yeah, he feels a little like a toddler on whom you test drive taste combinations (not that he’s complaining), but the bigger part of him — the one that remembers food insecurity and the one that is very very responsible about food and generally food sensitive — is over the moon.

I feel like he’d be someone who would love to receive actual edible gifts that were bought with him in mind.

He starts dating and puts good ten pounds (some happy relationship weight would do him good), eyes crinkling with excitement when you urge him to take a bite or a sip. To taste for you and tell what he thinks.

I feel like Simon would enjoy a lot different kinds of food — he’s incredibly open-minded in that regard, he has zero allergies and insatiable appetites of a dumpster fire. He’s gonna finish it all.

But I could bet that meat is his favourite. Red meat — tenderly cooked, still a little bloody. Birds like duck or chicken, fish and seafood.

As long as it’s hot and hearty he’s gonna eat it all up.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #girl.snippets #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley

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notapradagurl7 · 5 months ago

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Hey boo, I have a cute lil request for Mr. Mufasa, him and his boothang attending Jamaican carnival together, having a wonderful while are absolutely cutting a rug, slow whining and grinding, sensual eye contact, as well as displaying a view hidden and freaky tricks that gets Aaron’s animalistic side seriously riled up. Garnering a bit of attention, hoots, whistles, and laughter ensue around them as they continue to bump and grind like nobody’s watching. By the time it’s time to go home Aaron is absolutely feral, what happens next 🤩

Have This Dance.

Pairings: Black Fem! Reader x Aaron Pierre.

Summary: See Ask. You and your London boy attend a Jamaican carnival together, having an amazing time while things get a little freaky between y'all.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa @dpennedit

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii @pickuptruck01

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @zillasvilla @musicisme333

@chaoticcoffeequeen

A/N: I love this one this was so cute to write, thank you for this! lovely anon, I had fun writing this. 🩷 don't forget to like, comment, reblog and drop a request if you like, enjoy!

Warnings: fluff, grinding, smut, sensual eye contact, Aaron’s animalistic side, catcalling, spanking, praise, unprotected sex, a feral Aaron, slight breeding kink, slow whining, playful banter, fifth, dirty talk, consensual for both parties, hip rolling, a horny reader, not real, fictional. a naughty fic, Words: 2k

————

The sound of dancehall music boomed through the speakers up above, the vibrant green and black, yellow Jamaican flag hung high on the towering white polished flagpole, the scent of jerk chicken, and festival spices wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and joy of the carnival.

You and Aaron were lost in the rhythm, bodies moving in perfect sync, each grind and sway igniting the kind of fire that only summer nights could inspire.

“I'm so excited to be here, thanks for taking me Aaron,” You exclaimed with a smile, standing on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek but he turns his head to kiss your lips tenderly.

Aaron nodded at you and smirked back, his eyes sparkled with excitement as he surveyed the carnival, “Anytime, love. This is my favorite place to go when I'm feeling down, it's like coming back home,”

You and your man Aaron were at a Jamaican carnival close to the islands, with the sight of black people in vibrant costumes, the women shook their tails and ambiance was exciting. It was so perfect, it made you slightly homesick.

“Yeah, I'm missing home a bit, baby,” you told him with a lip pout.

“We gotta go on a trip to Jamaica,” He mentioned with a smile, kissing your forehead

Aaron made a mental note to plan a birthday trip to Jamaica for you, since you were getting homesick. Taking a vacation was definitely what you wanted.

“I'll be sure to do that when you're ready, darling.” Aaron spoke up with a reassuring nod.

He sported a white tank top, paired with a half-buttoned-up collared short-sleeved shirt, matching pants with cool sneakers on his feet. He wore his circled-shaped glasses behind his attractive face.

His hands found their way to your waist, fingers resting into the softness of your dark brown skin, while your own hands tangled in his curls, pulling him closer as you shared those heated glances that spoke volumes.

“Don't start something you can't finish,” you whispered to his ear, smirking.

“I always finished, last time you said that shit, you learned a lot

He loomed above you, his strong arm wrapped around your waist while yours secured his. Your head leaned against his arm, your ginger box braids pulled back into a ponytail.

You wore a green Jamaica skirt paired with a matching t-shirt, accentuating your curves while sporting sandals.

Your boo Aaron was a proud South London boy, he was also of Jamaican, Curaçaoan and Sierra Leonean descent while you were of Jamaican and Caribbean descent from your grandparents.

“What should we do first?” You asked him, lightly tapping your chin.

“How about we hit the dance floor first? I hear they’ve got some of the best DJs in the game spinning right now. Plus, I can’t wait to see you show off those sexy moves,”

You felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought of dancing together. “Alright, let’s go! I’ll show you right now,” you replied, pulling him closer as you navigated through the crowd.

“You think you can handle me?” he challenged, his voice low and playful, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Oh, I can handle you just fine,” you shot back, hips rolling in a way that had him biting back a groan.

As you reached the dance area, the rhythm of the music enveloped you both. The bass thumped through your chest, Your hips swaying with the booming beat and Aaron tightened his grip on your hips, pulling you in closer.

“Just feel the music with me babe,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

With every beat, you began to lost yourself in the rhythm, your body moving in sync with Aaron’s. His hips grind forward with yours, making him bite back a groan. You could hear him panting slightly heavily, not in panic.

The vibrant colors of the costumes, the laughter, and the energy around you made your heart race. Garnering a bit of attention from the crowd, cheers, whistles, a few hoots and joyful laughter. Bumping and grinding while Aaron moved his hips with yours perfectly.

“Look at you, dancing like nobody's watching,” he teased, his breath warm against your ear. With a playful hip roll, you responded, your eyes never leaving his.

“Maybe you'll like this dance, London boy,” you teased with a smirk, your hands on his arms.

Your ass repeatedly whining in a circle onto his clothed crotch, he grunted and felt the blood rush through his dick, his tongue gliding across his lush lips. Watching you bounce against him spurred him on.

“Just like that, you're perfect,” Aaron praised, his voice deepened with his British accent. Turning you on.

The music changed to a slower groove, you found yourselves grinding against each other, the chemistry between you palpable. Aaron’s hands roamed your hips, guiding you as you swayed together.

“So this is what you wanted to do?” You teased, raising an eyebrow while biting your lips to muffle a moan.

“More than you know,” he replied, his voice tinged with a playful growl. The way he looked at you made your insides flutter.

Finally, the music changed to reggae, and the two of you stopped dancing, you earned applause from the crowd and you giggled at the attention, your eyes flickered toward the striking 6’3 man with a smirk hovering over your pretty face.

“We move well together Aaron,”

“We sure do,“

Your hand gripped the back of his neck, drawing him closer for a passionate open-mouth kiss that made your clit throb, while he felt his dick grow hard and fuller.

You moaned with him in the kiss, your tongues twirling together and pulling away with a chain of spit between your lips and his plump ones.

you could see the wildness in Aaron's eyes. “I think we need to go home,” he said, his voice low and husky. You nodded, breathless from the dancing and the heat radiating between you both.

And with that, he drove you back to your humble home, and stepped inside quickly, locking the door behind himself. Aaron scooped you up in his arms and hurried into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed.

Clothes almost ripped, tossed aside on the floor, sloppy making out with each other and plopped onto the bed, soft smacking filled the room, you moaned in the kiss.

Aaron’s dick was thick, long and held in your palm, he groaned from your touch. “Put your dick inside me,”

“I don't have a condom, but i’m clean, I swear,” he reassured, kissing your lips twice.

“It’s alright, I'm clean too, I'm on the pill Aaron,”

He kissed your lips again, this time with fervor, he pushed his dick between your wet folds. You moaned wildly from the sudden friction but you needed this so much, “I missed this..ugh,” your hands rested on his shoulders.

His slim hips thrusting, rolling into you with a fast yet passionate rhythm, same as the dance floor you recently escaped, he groaned against your ear.

Relishing in the soft squelching sounds of your pussy sucking him back in, your walls latched around his dick too tight. “I missed this too,” he growled, trailing kisses upon your skin.

“Damn, you feel so good wrapped around me,” Aaron murmured, his voice of awe and pleasure as he buried himself deeper inside you.

You gasped from his tip hitting your sweet spot, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you urged him on. “Just like that, baby. Don't stop.”

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Taking me so well, fuck,” You watched every inch go in and out of you, could feel every inch of him, the way he filled you up just right, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each movement. Your moans grew louder and louder.

“Look at you, so perfect for me,” he said, his breath coming in quick bursts. He rutted against you, went harder, his mouth wrapped around your nipples, suckling them while pinching the other nipple.

“S-shit, you make me feel so good, Aaron,” You babbled, your voice breathless, hands balling into the sheets. Moaning at his words, hips moving with that pace.

Aaron’s lips curled into a smirk, his confidence radiating as he leaned down to capture your lips once more. Your moans muffed until he pulled away to gaze into your eyes. You gasped for air once his fingers pinched your clit, he went harder and your essence pooled his dick even more, “Fuck..me..like that..” you cried out, tears falling down your cheeks.

He pulled out, flipped on your side. Gripping your hips once he slid back into your pussy with ease, “I'll never get tired of you, pussy’s so tight..” he grunted deeply, his hand gripping your asscheeks and spreading them apart.

At the moment, you felt everything of him, your mouth parted wide with words coming out, Aaron watching you bounce after every thrust,his swiveling at a new pace, “Teasing me on the dance floor, wetting my dick like this, that's my girl,” he sang playfully, his hands tracing shapes on your stretch marks over your ass.

That man must've have been absolutely feral in the festival, his thrusts were relentless, The kiss was deep and fervent, a perfect blend of passion and urgency. He pulled away just enough to gaze into your eyes, his expression filled with a wild intensity.

“Tell me what you want, love, I want to hear you say it,” Aaron urged, his hazel-greenish eyes locked on your brown ones, watching you fall apart underneath him, he ducked his head between your breasts, kissing your dark brown skin lovingly, fully enamored with you, every part of you.

“I want you to make me scream your name, just you like did on the dance floor,” you replied, your voice shaky but cut by a moan, a sultry whisper.

His eyes darkened with desire, and he increased his pace, hitting all the right spots that made your body arch and writhe beneath him. “Scream for me then, baby. Let everyone know who’s got you like this.”

You bit your lip, holding back the sounds threatening to escape, but the way his dick moved inside you made it impossible. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge, your pussy clenching eagerly to his every command. His hand wrapped around your neck, his thumb pulled down your bottom lip, allowing you to scream out.

“Come on, don’t hold back,” he coaxed, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I want to hear you.”

You turned around, facing him forward in missionary and gripped his shoulders tight, you screamed, your body shaking as the man thrusted deeply within you, your eyes closed shut, and the waves of pleasure crashed over you. “Aaron!” you cried out, the sound echoing through the room.

“That's it, just like that,” he groaned, his own release following soon after as he buried himself deep within your pussy, holding you close as you both rode out the waves of ecstasy together. “Cumming..”

“Cum with me, let me feel you on my dick,” Aaron encouraged, wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug.

As you both came undone, he shot thick jets of his warm cum inside, you screamed even loudly, down from your high, he collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You turned to face him, a satisfied smile gracing your lips.

“That was…” you began, searching for the right words.

“Amazing?” he finished for you, pulling you closer to him, a playful glint in his eyes. “I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” you agreed, your heart swelling with warmth. “I can’t wait for our next adventure together.”

With a soft chuckle, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “Just wait till I take you to Jamaica. You won’t know what hit you.”

You giggled, excitement bubbling within you as you snuggled closer. “I believe you, London boy. Just promise not to keep me waiting too long.”

“I promise,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, his eyes filled with affection.

“Now, let’s take a shower, then rest before I have to show you just how much I missed you.”

As you settled into his embrace once he scooped you up, he carried you into the bathroom. Running you a hot bath while he took a hot shower, washing yourself clean.

Both of you stepped out, squeaky clean. Aaron smacked your asscheek and you hissed, giggling in response. Drying off with towels as you dressed yourself in a long tee shirt, while Aaron puts on some grey sweatpants, you smirked at the man while he towered over you in the bedroom.

“You know better than to tease me with those sweatpants, Aaron, let’s go to bed,” You shot back, chuckling lightly.

“Alright, let’s go to bed,” Aaron pouted with a chuckle, guiding you toward the soft bed. He flipped the light switch.

You gently plopped into the bed, with your British boothang Aaron. He grabbed the covers, laying them over both of you, he kissed your cheek twice and lips, his arms wrapped around you, snuggling close. You smiled as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

————-

#black!reader #black fanfiction #aaron pierre fic #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre #terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader #terry richmond x black oc #rebel ridge #lion king mufasa #black!fem!reader #jamaica

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ladsheadcanoncorner · 4 months ago

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sfw first kiss headcannons please? 🍎

aww first kisses! this was so much fun to write! thank you for the ask, dear <3 i saw the apple emoji, but wrote for all five boys, so i hope that is still okay.

rating: sfw cw: kissing ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

Xavier: -It sort of happens…accidentally? -Xavier has been ignoring your text messages, and you sent him some funny videos that you knew he would love -Since he just lives upstairs, you decide to take it upon yourself to make sure he is doing okay -When you knock on the door, it takes him a while to answer it. When he finally does, his hair and clothes are rumpled and he is rubbing his eyes -“Is everything okay? I guess I fell asleep early.” -His voice is that scratchy sort of sleepy and you feel your cheeks flush at how adorable he is -You: “Everything is fine, you just weren’t texting me back so I got worried.” -He smiles, eyes softening, and then invites you in -You’re sitting on the couch together and while you watch the videos you sent, he is starting to doze off again -You: “Xavier are you still tired?” Xavier: “Mmm, a little. Nap with me?” -When you agree, you both reach for the blanket that fell off the couch, and collide into each other, bumping heads -Giggling, you move to pull away, but Xavier tilts your chin up and kisses you -“I don’t want you to worry about me,” Xavier murmurs in between kisses. “I’ll always be by your side.”

Zayne: -This man has been stressed trying to plan the perfect time to finally kiss you -He’s thought about it since you were children, but never actually worked up the courage to do it until now -First, he plans to do it right when he picks you up to get the nerves out of the way, but when you answer the door you look so cute he feels tongue tied. He tries again at dinner, but a bunch of waiters come out singing ‘happy birthday’ to another table. Then he plans to do it at the coffee shop, but you point out that he has whipped cream on his upper lip, so he chickens out again -He resigns that it won’t happen today, but then you decide to take a different turn on the way home from your date, out across the bridge that overlooks Linkon City -He’s holding your hand as the two of you stare out at the water and twinkling city lights -He thinks: Now, just do it now. Don’t lose your nerve -You: “Zayne…I…” Zayne: “Yes?” -He is completely caught off guard when you stand on your tiptoes to give him a swift peck on the lips -When you pull away, both of you are furiously blushing and you stutter out some sort of apologetic excuse -Zayne takes this moment to cup your face in his hands and kiss you more tenderly, more gently, trying to infuse each moment with how much he has wanted this to happen for so long -You: “I was worried you would take it badly.” Zayne, chuckling softly and brushing your cheek with his thumb: “And I was worried I’d never actually get the chance."

Rafayel: -Rafayel is lamenting his lack of inspiration when you visit one day -Dramatic fishie moping around the house, wondering if he lost his talent, until he gets a lightbulb moment with that familiar mischievous grin -Rafayel: “You could always pose for me, cutie.” You: “Me? Why?” Rafayel: “If you don’t, these artist hands that bring magic and joy to the world will go unused forever.” -Cue eye roll, but you agree -You feel awkward, having never posed for a portrait before -Raf is looking from his canvas, to you, and then frowns. Holding out a thumb and squinting with one eye, he says, “You’re a little lifeless.” -You tell him it’s because you’ve never done anything like this and he laughs, hands in his pockets as he walks over to you -Rafayel: “You just need a little more color in your cheeks.” -He leans forward and silences the question you are about to ask with his lips. You’re stunned for a moment, but then you kiss him back, letting your arms loop around his neck and pull him closer -He pulls away, cheeks equally as flushed as you feel, and then says, “There we go, but I don’t know if my painting could possibly do you justice now.”

Sylus: -On your way to work one morning, you see a flyer about a local Night Market, and you text the details to Sylus -Sylus responds with: “Trying Linkon cuisine with a local? Hmm, alright sweetie. I’ll be back in town tomorrow. Be ready by 6:00.” -The next evening you arrive at the market, but angry gray clouds are starting to appear overhead. You brush it off, ready to enjoy your time with him -You meander all the way down to the end of the stalls (he orders one of everything that you say sounds good), talking about everything and nothing, trying to ignore the way your heart pounds in your chest whenever he catches you staring at him -You: “Want dessert? They have a cotton candy stall here that shapes it like different animals.” Sylus: “Sure, then I’ll have two cute kittens to look at.” -When the kitten shaped cotton candy is ready, Sylus holds it out for you to take a bite together -At this moment, the sky takes the perfectly inopportune time to open up, and it begins to rain -Sylus lifts his jacket to shield you from the rain as you run towards a nearby tree for cover. By the time you get there, the cotton candy has all but completely dissolved -Disappointed, you look down at the stick Sylus is holding and say, “I’m sorry about the kitten.” -Sylus, drenched from the rain, laughs in a way you’ve never heard before. A jovial sounding chuckle, that is loud and sincere and real -He tilts your chin up to look at him, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face as he leans in and says, "My favorite one is still right here in front of me.” -He brushes his lips against yours, tentative at first until you kiss him back, and then he lifts you off of your feet to kiss you more fully. -As droplets cascade from the sky, you wonder if anything will ever be as romantic as a first kiss in the rain

Caleb: -Let’s be honest, the two of you shared at least one kiss when you were younger -But Caleb wants a redo because no way that time you dared him to kiss you in the attic actually counts -He’s helping you clean out your closet, because you told him that he owes you a favor but also because he wants to spend time with you. He stumbles upon a big box labeled “Memories,” dusty and shoved up on the top shelf -When you come back into the room with lemonade for both of you, you’re mortified as he rifles through the box filled with your most precious memories -You: “What are you doing?” Caleb: “What, are you embarrassed about what I might find?" -He holds up an envelope with your ten year old handwriting scrawled “super secret future plan, DO NOT OPEN!” on the front. -You lunge towards him, needing to get the envelope away from him before he opens it and sees that your super secret future plan was a drawing of a house and two kids with him -In your determination, you haven’t noticed that you’ve fully straddled him until your chin bumps the top of his head -The fear of him discovering your secret dissipates, and it is replaced with a tension in the air that you can both feel -“You don’t have to hide anything from me,” Caleb says, nuzzling his nose against yours -Caught up in the moment of it all, you lean in and kiss him -Just enough to catch him off guard and just enough to snatch the envelope away -“Ha!” you say triumphantly, but the telltale blush on your cheeks tells Caleb all he needs to know about how you really felt -Still though…guess he’s going to need another do over

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