#do i cradle thoughts of these characters in my head like a baby

[mintyys-blog]

EVERY UNIVERSE — viltrumite! mark grayson x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: character death, death in childbirth, grief, delusion, kidnapping, obsession, forced role play, forced marriage, talks of having children, oral sex (fem receiving), sexual assault

MINORS DNI

Mark had fought wars. Conquered planets. Crushed civilizations beneath his fists.

But none of that had ever made his heart pound like this.

He knelt beside the bed, his fingers tightly interlocked with hers as she screamed through another contraction. His free hand pushed damp hair from her forehead, his chest aching at the sight of her tears, the strain in her face.

“You’re doing amazing,” he whispered, his voice barely steady. “Just a little more, okay?”

She didn’t answer, only squeezed his hand tighter. Hard enough that, if he were human, she might have broken something. But he wasn’t. And he wished more than anything that he could take her pain, bear it for her.

Another scream—then the sound of a baby’s first cry split the air.

Mark’s breath hitched.

The doctors moved quickly, cleaning the infant, wrapping him in soft cloth before carefully placing him in Mark’s arms. His son. His beautiful son.

His heart swelled, his chest so full he thought it might burst. He turned immediately, eager to share this moment with her. But then he saw her. Too still. Too pale. His smile faded. “Y/N?”

She blinked slowly, exhaustion weighing heavy on her. But then, she gave him the smallest, softest smile. “Remember,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “I’ll love you in every universe.”

The monitors shrieked.

“Her heart rate’s dropping!”

“We’re losing her!”

“No—no, no, no—” Mark clutched her hand tighter, desperate, pleading. “Stay with me. Stay with me, please.”

Her fingers, so warm, so full of life just moments ago, slowly went limp. Mark watched helplessly as the light faded from her eyes. As her breath hitched, then stopped. A sound tore from his throat. A broken, wounded thing.

The doctors moved around him, shouting, working. But he already knew. She was gone. His love. His heart. His one weakness. Gone. The baby in his arms whimpered softly, unaware.

Mark barely breathed as he pressed his forehead to hers, his grip on her hand unrelenting, as if he could keep her here by sheer will alone. He had conquered galaxies. But he couldn’t save her. And something inside him shattered.

The nights were always the hardest. Mark sat in the dimly lit nursery, cradling his son against his chest. The baby had finally fallen asleep, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of Mark’s shirt, his breath warm and steady.

Mark exhaled, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s forehead. “You look like her,” he whispered.

It had been months. Months of waking up to an empty bed. Months of staring at the space beside him, hoping—praying—that maybe it had all been a nightmare. That she’d be there, smiling at him, telling him he was just being dramatic. But she wasn’t. She never would be. A knock at the window broke his thoughts.

Mark turned, already knowing who it was before he even saw him. Nolan. His father hovered just outside, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Mark sighed, carefully laying his son in his crib before stepping onto the balcony.

The cold night air bit at his skin, but he barely felt it. Nolan wasted no time. “You can’t keep doing this.” Mark stiffened. “Doing what?”

“Wasting away here,” his father said, gesturing toward the nursery. “I know you’re grieving. But you’re still Viltrumite. You have responsibilities.” Mark’s jaw clenched. “My responsibility is to my son.”

“Your responsibility is to your empire,” Nolan corrected. “Earth is filled with beautiful women, Mark. You could find someone new. Move on.”

Move on?

Mark’s hands curled into fists, his rage simmering beneath the surface. His father’s words shouldn’t have surprised him, but they did. “There is no moving on,” Mark said coldly.

Nolan shook his head, sighing like he was dealing with a stubborn child. “One of your duties is to repopulate the Viltrum Empire. You know that.” Mark’s stomach turned.

His father made it sound so… mechanical. Like love didn’t matter. Like she didn’t matter. Mark took a step forward, voice dangerously low. “Get out.” Nolan studied him for a long moment before nodding. “You can’t run from your duty forever.”

And with that, he was gone. Mark stood there for a long time, staring into the empty sky before finally going back inside.

His son stirred slightly as Mark sat beside the crib, brushing soft curls from his tiny face. Mark exhaled shakily, leaning down to press a kiss to his son’s forehead.

“I would never replace your mother,” he whispered. “She was one of a kind.” His voice broke on the last word, but he didn’t care. Because it was the truth.

The blood wouldn’t wash off. Mark stood in the ruins of another battlefield, his breathing ragged, his hands trembling at his sides. The bodies of fallen rebels littered the ground, their broken forms barely recognizable.

They had fought back. Resisted his rule. They were gone now. It was becoming easier.

The rage came quicker, burned hotter. The grief never left—it only morphed into something sharper, something ruthless. A blade he wielded without hesitation.

He used to be better than this. But she had made him better. And now she was gone.

“Sir?” A Viltrumite soldier approached cautiously, as if sensing the storm beneath his skin. “The planet is secure.”

Mark didn’t answer at first. He flexed his fingers, still slick with blood, before finally nodding. “Good.” That was it. No mercy. No remorse. Just another victory. Another hollow, meaningless victory.

⸻

He barely slept. When he did, it was worse.

The nightmares were relentless. He saw her face—smiling, laughing, whispering his name—only to watch it twist in pain, her body growing cold in his arms again and again.

Mark would wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, reaching for her—only to find the bed empty.

Always empty. His son was the only thing keeping him tethered.

The boy was growing fast, his mother’s eyes staring up at him with innocent curiosity. But Mark could see it, the way the nannies and caretakers whispered, the way the guards stiffened when he passed.

They were afraid. Of him. And maybe they should be. He wasn’t the same man anymore. He was a weapon with nothing left to lose. And without her, he was slipping. Falling. And soon, he knew, there wouldn’t be anything left to save.

Mark sat alone in his war room, staring at the holographic projections of his conquered territories. Planets bent to his will. Armies at his command. An empire expanding without resistance.

And yet, none of it mattered. It was all meaningless. His fingers tapped against the table, his mind drifting, drowning in memories he couldn’t escape—until a voice interrupted.

“Well, well. You look even worse than I expected.”

Mark’s eyes snapped up. Angstrom Levy stood before him, his usual smug expression in place. The air around him crackled with residual energy from whatever dimension he had just stepped through.

Mark’s body tensed immediately. “You have five seconds to tell me why you’re here before I rip your head off.” Angstrom merely chuckled, unbothered. “I wouldn’t be so hasty. I have something you want.”

Mark’s glare darkened. “There’s nothing you could offer me.”

Angstrom’s smile widened. “Oh, I think there is.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What if I told you… you could have her back?”

Mark’s breath caught. His heart—cold and empty for so long—lurched violently in his chest.

Angstrom’s grin grew at his reaction. “There’s a universe out there where she’s alive. Whole. Untouched by tragedy. You could see her again, hold her again.”

Mark’s jaw clenched. “…What’s the catch?”

Angstrom tilted his head, feigning innocence. “That universe—it’s a problem for me. I need it gone. And you… well, you’ve never had an issue destroying things, have you?”

Mark didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it.” The words left him almost too fast, his desperation barely contained. Angstrom chuckled. “No second thoughts? No moral dilemma?”

Mark’s hands curled into fists. “I don’t care what happens to that universe. I don’t care about anything except her.”

Angstrom nodded approvingly. “Then we have a deal.” He reached out a hand, and without hesitation, Mark took it. A deal with the devil. A promise of salvation. And the only thing standing between him and his wife—was the destruction of an entire world.

Mark stood over his son’s crib, watching as the small child blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. For a moment, just a moment, the weight of what he was about to do pressed against his chest. He reached down, brushing soft curls from the boy’s forehead, memorizing every detail—his tiny hands, his mother’s nose, the way he reached for his father without hesitation.

Innocent. Oblivious. Mark exhaled sharply. He couldn’t waver now. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, voice firm. “And I’ll bring your mother with me.”

The child let out a small babble, reaching up. Mark allowed himself a single moment of hesitation before pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead.

Then he stepped back, handing him off to the waiting caretaker. The woman held the child close, but her eyes were nervous, wary. She should be.

Mark turned without another word, his cape billowing behind him as he left the nursery. Angstrom was waiting, a smug expression on his face. “Touching.”

Mark didn’t acknowledge the comment. He didn’t care what Angstrom thought. All that mattered was the portal crackling before him, swirling with unstable energy. A gateway to another world.

A world where she was alive. Without hesitation, without fear, Mark flew forward. And as the portal swallowed him whole, only one thought consumed him. Finding her.

The sky burned.

Buildings crumbled beneath his fists, entire cities reduced to nothing but dust and ruin. Screams echoed through the streets, but Mark barely heard them.

He moved like a force of nature—unstoppable, unrelenting. This world didn’t matter. These people didn’t matter. Only she did.

Somewhere in this universe, she was alive, breathing, unaware that he was tearing apart her world just to reach her.

Angstrom had delivered on his promise. The coordinates, the exact places where she might be. But Mark wasn’t going to waste time searching quietly.

He would burn this entire planet to the ground if it meant finding her faster.

A hero—a version of someone he might have once called an ally—flew at him, fists glowing with energy. Mark caught his arm mid-strike, crushing bone with barely any effort before throwing the man through a collapsing skyscraper.

A woman in a high-tech suit fired at him, shouting something about surrender.

Mark punched clean through her chest, barely sparing her a glance as her body hit the ground. None of it mattered. None of them mattered.

He flew through the smoke-choked air, eyes scanning the ruins below. The scent of fire and blood filled his lungs.

Then—he saw her. Or rather, a version of her. Standing in the middle of a shattered street, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. Mark’s heart pounded.

He landed hard enough to crack the pavement, stepping forward, fists still bloodied, eyes wild. Her lips parted, confusion flickering across her face. “…Mark?”

A broken breath left him. It was her. It was really her. For the first time in years, his heart felt like it was beating again.

His muscles loosened, his breath shaky as he took another step forward, reaching out— But she took a step back. And the look in her eyes wasn’t love. It was fear. Mark’s fingers twitched. His mind screamed at him that it didn’t matter, that she would understand, that she would see soon enough that he was doing this for her.

A tremor ran through the ground as another explosion shook the city. Smoke curled in the air between them. Mark clenched his jaw.

No matter what she thought now—no matter how much she resisted—he had already decided. He had come too far. She wasn’t going to slip away from him again. She took another step back.

Mark’s stomach twisted. He could hear her heartbeat, the sharp, uneven rhythm of it. Not with love, not with relief— With fear. “No,” he said, almost pleading. He took a step forward, closing the space she was so desperately trying to create between them. “It’s me.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Her eyes darted to the bodies, the fire, the shattered remains of her city.

He followed her gaze, and for the first time, he saw what she saw. Not a lover. Not a husband. A monster. Mark swallowed hard. “I did this for you.” She flinched.

His hands clenched into fists. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to run to him, throw her arms around him, tell him she’d been waiting. That she’d missed him as much as he missed her.

Instead, she was trembling.

“Stay away from me,” she whispered.

Mark froze.

She didn’t mean that. She couldn’t.

Not her.

Not after everything he had done—everything he sacrificed—just to see her again.

The ground trembled as another explosion rocked the city. Her gaze flickered to the destruction, then back to him. And she ran. Mark stood there for half a second, stunned, before instinct kicked in. It didn’t matter. She could run. He was faster.

Before she could take three steps, he was on her, an iron grip closing around her wrist. He barely registered her gasp of fear as he spun her toward him, crushing her against his chest.

“Let me go!” she screamed, thrashing, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, his entire body trembling.

“I lost you once,” he murmured. “I’m not losing you again.”

She shoved at his chest, panic lacing her every movement. “You’re not my Mark—”

His grip tightened.

“This universe tried to take you from me,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “I won’t let it.”

She whimpered, twisting in his grasp, her struggles growing weaker against his impossible strength.

He pressed his lips to her temple. “No matter what happens,” he whispered, “you’re coming home with me.”

She was so still in his arms.

Mark barely heard the others as he landed in front of the house—Debbie’s house. Or at least, the version that existed in this universe. His mother wasn’t here, not really. None of these people mattered.

But she did.

Her unconscious body was warm against his chest, her face relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen in years. He held her just a little closer.

The other Marks were already gathered, watching him with varying expressions. Some amused, some indifferent.

“Why the hell did you bring her?” One of them, sporting a yellow and black suit, frowned. Mark didn’t even look up. “She was part of my deal.”

Mohawk! Mark scoffed, smirking. “Look at this guy—so pussy whipped he traveled across dimensions!”

A few of them chuckled, but he didn’t react. Viltrumite Mark growing annoyed with the Mohawk variant, spoke. “Where is Angstrom?”

The others shrugged, murmuring amongst themselves. Then, as if on cue, a green portal cracked open before them.

Viltrumite! Mark barely paid attention to the conversation that followed. He knew the drill—Angstrom would send them all home, back to their respective worlds, back to the wars and chaos and bloodshed that defined them.

But for once, Mark wasn’t thinking about any of that. His attention remained on the woman in his arms, his fingers absently brushing against her back. He’d spent so long fighting, so long clawing his way through blood and ash, just for this moment.

For her.

The portals to their dimensions flickered to life. The others began stepping through, disappearing one by one.

Mark adjusted his grip on her, cradling her closer as he moved toward his own portal.

And then—he was home. His warships still filled the sky. His empire still stood, unshaken. The weight of responsibility loomed overhead, but none of it felt as heavy anymore. Not now. Not with her back in his arms.

He gazed down at her peaceful face, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “Welcome home, my beloved,” he whispered.

She stirred in his arms. Mark felt it instantly—the faint movement, the shift in her breathing. His grip on her tightened instinctively. She was waking up. Good. He wanted her to see.

Mark flew straight to the palace, the grand structure carved into the remains of a conquered world. It loomed over the city, a symbol of power and absolute rule. His soldiers bowed as he passed, their gazes flickering to the unconscious woman in his arms, but none dared to question him.

Inside, the halls were cold and vast, built for a king, not a man. The walls were adorned with war banners, artifacts of his victories. He had everything—an empire, an army, a legacy that stretched across the stars.

And now, he had her.

He entered his private chambers, stepping past the balcony that overlooked the city. With careful hands, he laid her down on the large, ornate bed, adjusting her so she rested comfortably against the soft fabric.

Mark sat beside her, watching, waiting. A soft sound escaped her lips. Then, slowly, her eyelashes fluttered, and her breathing hitched. She was awake.

Her eyes met his, and for a brief second, there was nothing but confusion—until it all came rushing back. The invasion. The destruction. Him. Her body tensed, her breathing sharp and uneven. Mark reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek. She flinched. His expression darkened. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured.

She shoved at his chest, scrambling backward. “What did you do?” Her voice trembled, her gaze darting around the unfamiliar room, realization sinking in. “Where am I?” Mark caught her wrist before she could move any further. He pulled her close, forcing her to face him.

“You’re home,” he said simply.

Her breath hitched. “No—no, this isn’t—” Mark shushed her, pressing his forehead against hers. “I know it’s overwhelming,” he whispered. “But you’ll see. This is where you belong.”

She trembled in his grasp. “You killed all those people—”

“I had to.” His voice was firm, resolute. “I did it for you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but Mark only held her closer, his thumb tracing gentle circles against her wrist. “You’ll understand soon enough,” he murmured. He wouldn’t let her go. Not this time.

Mark sat on the throne, fingers drumming idly against the armrest, his gaze locked on her.

She sat on the edge of the massive bed, stiff and silent, her hands gripping the sheets as if they were the only thing grounding her. She hadn’t spoken since he’d told her she was home. She was still processing. That was fine. She had time.

The heavy doors creaked open. Mark didn’t look away from her as his father stepped into the room, his presence as commanding as ever. Nolan was one of the few people who could enter without permission, but even he hesitated at the sight before him.

Mark finally turned, watching as his father’s eyes landed on her. Nolan stilled. His brows furrowed. He took a slow step forward, then another, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t know how you managed to do that…” Nolan muttered, eyes flickering between Mark and the woman sitting frozen on the bed. Then, to Mark’s satisfaction, his father’s lips curled into something almost approving. “…But good job, son.”

Mark’s chest swelled at the praise. Nolan looked at her again, studying her face—the same face that belonged to a woman who had died years ago. He exhaled, shaking his head slightly.

“Interesting.” His gaze turned to Mark. “And she remembers you?”

“She will,” Mark said simply. She let out a shaky breath, looking between the two Viltrumites towering over her. “You—you can’t just keep me here—”

Nolan huffed a quiet laugh. “She’s feisty.” Mark smirked. “She was always like that.”

Nolan clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “She’ll learn. Just like the rest.” Mark nodded. He already knew that. She would understand. In time, she’d accept her place. She had to.

She shivered under his touch. Mark’s hands lingered, tracing the curves of her waist as he helped her adjust the fabric of the Viltrumite clothing. The white and gray fit her perfectly, the gold accents catching the dim light of the room. It was a queen’s attire—his queen. He slid his palms over her arms, up to her shoulders, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against the curve of her neck.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin.

She tensed but didn’t pull away. He took that as progress. His fingers interlaced with hers, his grip firm yet careful. “Come,” he said, leading her toward the door. “It’s time you met your son.” She halted mid-step.

Mark turned, watching the shock ripple across her face. Her son. A sharp breath left her lips. “You’re lying.” Mark’s expression softened—just slightly. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She stared at him, searching for deception, for some cruel trick. But there was none. Slowly, cautiously, she allowed him to lead her forward.

As they walked through the towering halls of the palace, her hand still in his, she realized there was no escaping this. No waking up from whatever nightmare she had been pulled into. Because this wasn’t a nightmare to him. To Mark—this was a dream fulfilled.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The nursery was warm, quiet, bathed in soft golden light. And there—nestled in the crib—was him. Her baby boy.

She froze in the doorway, unable to move, unable to breathe. He was so small, so perfect. He had her nose, her eyes, tiny fingers curling in excitement as he saw her. Then—he babbled, reaching out. Her legs felt weak.

“He recognizes you,” Mark murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. His hand found her waist, warm and possessive, gently pushing her forward. “His mother.” Tears welled in her eyes.

She wanted to run to him, to scoop him up, to hold him close and never let go. But fear held her in place. This wasn’t her world. Wasn’t her baby. And yet—when he let out a tiny whimper, his arms still reaching—her body moved before her mind could stop it.

She stepped forward, hesitantly, and carefully lifted him into her arms. He cooed, tiny hands grabbing at her clothes, his warmth pressing against her chest.

A sob threatened to escape her lips. Mark’s arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder as he watched the scene unfold. “See?” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “This is where you belong.”

Days passed in a blur. She barely spoke. Barely slept.

Her son—Mark’s son—never left her arms for long. Every time she tried to distance herself, the child would fuss and cry, his tiny hands gripping onto her as if he knew, deep down, that she wasn’t supposed to leave. And Mark… Mark was always there. Watching. Guiding. Touching.

His hands were never far, resting on her back when she carried their son through the halls, brushing against her waist when he led her to meals, tilting her chin up when he demanded her attention.

He never forced her, never raised his voice. But his presence was suffocating. And yet—she couldn’t bring herself to fight him. Not when he looked at her like that. Like she was his entire world.

Not when their son—her son—clung to her, trusting, innocent, unaware of the war raging in her heart.

The palace was beautiful, grand and open, yet it felt like a cage. She could roam wherever she wanted, but there were always eyes on her. Viltrumite soldiers nodded as she passed, but there was no mistaking their purpose. They were guards. Watchers.

Mark didn’t treat her like a prisoner. But she was one. And the worst part? The longer she stayed, the more the thought of leaving terrified her.

Dinner was quiet. It always was.

Mark sat across from her at the long, polished table, their son nestled in her lap, babbling happily as he played with a small golden trinket. She barely touched her food, only picking at it while Mark ate with a steady, satisfied ease.

Then, casually—like it was the most natural thing in the world—he said it. “We should have more children.” Her hands froze. More? Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as she processed his words.

She hadn’t even had one child—not really. Not in this life. This wasn’t her son, not the way Mark believed. And yet, he spoke as if she had been his wife all along, as if nothing had changed.

Like she hadn’t changed. She swallowed hard, her fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. His wife’s dress. The realization hit her like a blow. The way he dressed her, in fine silks and intricate embroidery—his wife’s clothes. The way he touched her, lingering, reverent—as if she had always been his.

The way he guided her, suggested how she should wear her hair, what jewelry suited her best—the way his wife had worn it. He was trying to replace her. No—not replace. To bring her back. Her lips parted, her throat dry. Mark watched her expectantly, his gaze warm, unwavering.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, affectionate, like they were having an ordinary conversation between husband and wife. “What do you think?” She forced herself to breathe.

Her son—not hers, not really—giggled in her lap, blissfully unaware of the tension thickening in the air. Her pulse pounded in her ears. What did she think? She thought she was drowning. She couldn’t answer.

Her throat tightened as she stared at him, at the quiet expectation in his eyes. He meant it. Every word. More children. A future. A life she had never lived, but one he had already decided belonged to her.

Her fingers trembled against the fabric of her dress. Mark’s hand reached across the table, covering hers, grounding, steady.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Is something wrong?” Everything. Everything was wrong. But she couldn’t say that.

Not when his grip was so gentle, yet so firm. Not when his thumb traced slow circles against her skin, comforting, possessive. Not when their—his—son looked up at her with bright, adoring eyes, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her.

She swallowed hard. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Mark chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “I know it’s a lot to consider.” His gaze softened, his fingers still trailing against hers. “But we’ve lost enough time already.”

Her stomach twisted. Lost time. To him, she had always been his wife. His love. The mother of his child.

And now, he wanted more. More memories that weren’t hers. More children she had never carried. More years stolen from a life she had never lived. Her silence stretched too long. Mark’s smile faltered, just slightly. His fingers tightened, just barely.

“…Y/N?” His voice was still soft, but there was something else now. A quiet warning. She forced herself to meet his gaze. Lying to him would be dangerous. But the truth—her truth—wasn’t an option.

So she did the only thing she could. She nodded. Mark exhaled, his smile returning in full force, his grip on her hand loosening just enough to feel like reassurance.

“I knew you’d understand,” he murmured. She forced herself to smile back. And inside, she screamed.

She lay in bed, stiff as a board, her body refusing to relax even as Mark’s arms encircled her.

The weight of his presence was suffocating, his warmth pressing against her side. She kept her breathing steady, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to will herself into some form of calm.

But Mark noticed. Of course, he did.

He shifted, rolling on top of her in one fluid motion. The air in her lungs stilled.

His bare chest pressed against her, his warmth inescapable. He was only wearing his pants, his body solid and strong, caging her in beneath him.

His fingers traced the line of her jaw, his touch feather-light, almost tender.

“I was broken without you,” he murmured.

She sucked in a breath as his lips brushed against her neck, slow and lingering, his hot breath fanning over her skin.

“I’m so glad to have you back.” His voice was full of raw emotion, of something aching.She squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t right.

She wasn’t who he thought she was. But he believed it. With every touch, every kiss, every word, he believed it. And if she told him the truth— Would he even listen?

She shouldn’t feel this way. Her body shouldn’t be trembling beneath his touch, her breath shouldn’t be coming out in soft, uneven gasps. She shouldn’t want this.

Mark’s hands roamed her skin with slow, deliberate purpose, his lips dragging over her neck, her collarbone, lower. Every touch was practiced, familiar, like he had done this a thousand times before. Because he had. Just—not with her. Not really. But her body didn’t know the difference. Her body responded to him as if it did.

His fingers found the sensitive spots she didn’t even realize she had, his touch coaxing heat from her skin, his mouth whispering promises against her throat—mine, always mine, never leaving me again.

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to hold back the traitorous sounds building in her chest. She hated him. She hated him.

He was a monster. He stole her from her life, tore her from her world, forced her into a role that was never meant to be hers. He was selfish, obsessive, violent.

But his hands were gentle. His voice was soft. His lips worshiped her as if she was something precious, something irreplaceable. And the worst part? Some part of her liked it.

Guilt twisted in her stomach, hot and suffocating, but it wasn’t enough to stop the shudder that racked her body as his fingers slid lower, as his voice murmured praises against her skin, as he played her like he had done this a thousand times before. Like he knew her.

Like she had always belonged to him. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to push him away, to remind herself who he really was. But her body betrayed her. And Mark knew it.

“Please” she begged, her hands shaking as she holds onto his shoulders. He kissed her mouth silencing her weak protests, she couldn’t even fight back. He pulled up her nightgown pulling down her panties. He tossed them aside, pulling her night gown over her head, he kisses down her chest, to her stomach, and finally to rest in between her legs. He moves her legs on his shoulders as he licks up her slit, using her fingers to open her folds, inserting two and thrusting. She quickly grew wet at his actions, her body acting on instinct, as he sucked on her clit, circling around the sensitive bud. Her legs clenched on his head but he paid no mind.

Continuing to eat her out like a starving man. She threw her head back, moaning helplessly. She wasn’t a virgin, nor was inexperienced in oral sex in any means— yet all her past relationships never made her feel this good.

Her breath hitched as his fingers worked her apart, his touch agonizingly slow, purposeful. Every stroke, every brush of his lips against her skin, was meant to unravel her. And it was. Her body responded before her mind could fight it, hips shifting, breath catching, a soft, humiliating whimper slipping past her lips.

Her nails dug into the sheets, and she pulled his face closer to her warmth, she felt him smile against her. She squirmed and panted, “wait— I’m gonna” she cut herself off with a moan, and he added another finger, her walls stretched around him. She whimpered, feeling herself get close. He didn’t stop, if anything he worked harder. And soon she came, he licked her up, slupping up her juices. As he pulled away from her pussy, thin strings of cum connected his face. He just wiped it with his hand.

Mark chuckled against her throat, low and pleased. “See?” he murmured, dragging his tongue along her pulse. “Your body remembers me.” She clenched her fists, shame burning through her even as heat pooled in her core. No. No, it doesn’t. This wasn’t hers to remember.

But the way he touched her—like he knew her inside and out—made her question everything. This was how he touched her. His wife. The woman he had lost. The woman she wasn’t. Her mind screamed at her to shove him away, to fight, to remind him—remind herself—that this wasn’t real.

But her body betrayed her. Mark lifted his head, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, drinking in her trembling form. His fingers teased, coaxing more from her, more reactions she didn’t want to give, more proof that he had already won.

She felt her resolve slipping, her body giving in, her mind clouded by pleasure and something far, far worse—acceptance. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, claiming kiss. “You were made for me,” he whispered against her mouth. And God help her—some part of her believed it.

Mark held her close, his arms wrapped around her as if he were afraid she might vanish if he let go. His grip was firm but not suffocating, his warmth engulfing her, steady and unyielding.

Her breath was slow, steady against his chest, her body slack in sleep. He brushed a hand over her hair, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. Good. She was adjusting.

It had been difficult at first. She had been quiet, withdrawn, hesitant—but now? Now she was soft in his arms, pliant beneath his touch. She was his again. Mark closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, satisfaction settling in his chest. Things were finally falling into place. She had fought it—he had expected her to—but she was coming back to him.

She was coming back to herself. He just had to be patient. She loved him once. She would love him again. He would make sure of it.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t see—was the war raging beneath the surface. Because she wasn’t asleep. Not really. She lay still, eyes shut, body curled against his, pretending, forcing herself to stay limp in his hold.

Because if she moved, she would break. She hated him. She had hated him from the moment he took her, from the moment he looked at her with that kind of love, from the moment he touched her and convinced her body to betray her.

But now—now she didn’t just hate him. She hated herself. For letting this happen. For not fighting harder.

For letting herself feel anything other than disgust when he kissed her, when he touched her, when he made her his. For that one, fleeting moment where she almost—almost—wanted it. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall.

Not here. Not where he could feel them, where he could comfort her, where he could twist her pain into something else. So she lay still. Silent. Hating him. Hating herself. And worst of all—hating the part of her that was terrified of the day she stopped hating it.

PART TWO

[lovelytsunoda]

you've got me under your spell | eddie brock and venom

summary: the then's and now's of halloween in the brock household

pairing: eddie brock x wife!reader (and their son!) x venom

warnings: i've turned eddie brock from a swagless loser to a dilf, venom is loaned to a child as a halloween costume, venom is almost like a second child tbh, implied smut, brief mentions of mental illness and pregnancy-related mental health issues. not to spoil anything at the end but the final section is pretty fucking funny if i do say so myself.

author's note: i have a very delayed last minute addition to my halloween fics for 2024! after flying through all three venom movies in about two days (as someone who doesn't watch marvel movies, might i add), i am pleased (and a little concerned) to annoucne that eddie brock is now my favourite marvel character.

yes, dylan brock is a canon character in the venom comics (or so i have been told) but all this dylan had in common with the canon version is his name.

2010.

she watched fondly from the doorway as eddie picked up the infant, who was currently trying to crawl towards the white pumpkin in the bay window. dylan laughed in his father's arms as eddie spun around before cradling the infant against his chest. he caught his wife's eyes from the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked down at dylan.

"hey kiddo, i think mommy's looking at us."

dylan smiled, wide and toothless, letting out the baby equivalent of a cheer as he looked over at his mother.

"are you guys ready to make the rounds? i promised mrs. chen some baby time." y/n laughed, reaching out to hold her son's small hand in hers.

the streets outside were lit up with fog machines and smiling skeletons, filled with the sounds of kids milling about. it was baby brock's first halloween, and he was dressed appropriately for it in his little pumpkin costume. after attempting to suck on y/n's finger, dylan dropped her hand and busied himself with attempting to trace the tattoos visible on eddie's forearm.

eddie beamed, kissing his wife softly before answering. "we're ready if you are. lead the way, mamas."

y/n had never pictured herself as a mother. in her twenties, when it seemed like settling down was the only thing people her age wanted to do, she was paralyzed with fear, insecurity and a little bit of self-loathing. being inside of her head was a nightmare, and she wasn't even sure she'd make it to thirty.

things had started to change when she met eddie brock.

slowly, she came alive again. she started to want things that she had thought were out of reach. she wanted to get married, have that house and that family and the white picket fence. to know that everything she had done had added up to this moment, and that everything had been worth it.

but she hated being pregnant. for her, growing another human being had been an arduous, terrifying experience. the eight hours of labour she had gone through on the day dylan was born was enough for her to decide that she didn't want more kids, and that she could still have the family she dreamed of with only one child.

she kissed dylan's forehead softly, brushing back his thin baby hair before tucking the small pumpkin hat onto his little head, and over his small ears.

the couple walked down the front steps of their bungalow, one of eddies arms around his wife, and the other holding his son (which was quite the feat, considering that the infant so desperately wanted out of his father's arms. dylan was an active baby, but he was allowed to crawl down the residential street, he would do so at such a pace that the brocks would never get him back.)

at every house they went to there was someone to coo over the littlest brock. eventually, eddie had to drop that arm around his wife so that he could use both hands to hold his son. dylan smiled that wide, gummy smile and laughed and babbled at all of the people that they passed, y/n clutching an almost-full orange bag of candy (she was convinced that some of their neighbours gave out extra candy to the couple, simply to reward them with the hit of caffeine found in chocolate that the new parents would so crave).

as they walked towards mrs. chen's house, dylan finally settled in his fathers arms, eddie looked over at his wife with nothing but reverence and love in his eyes. even carrying a little bit of extra weight around her hips and stomach, her breasts a little fuller and her arms a little chubbier, she was as radiant as she was the day that they got married. he would do anything for her, for his son. his little family.

"eddie, darling." she laughed, turning to face him. "you're staring."

eddie blushed, the rose in his cheeks barely visible in the dark. "uh, no i'm not."

"yes you are." she giggled. "i love you, eddie brock."

"i love you more." eddie beamed, leaning over to kiss her. "i think the little guy is worn out." he spoke softly, nodding towards the baby in his arms. "he's asleep."

"awe." y/n cooed, gently stroking her son's arm with her pointer finger. the sight of eddie holding their son in his arms would never grow old. she was starting a folder of pictures on her laptop of this very thing, as she knew dylan would soon be too big for his father to hold. "he's just like his father. he can go to sleep any time, any where and in any condition."

eddie laughed. "i feel like there was an insult buried in there somewhere."

"i still married you, didn't i?"

2024.

"dylan, if you want to get to eric's on time, you've gotta get going now! his mom's on the way!"

y/n knocked on her son's door, waiting until she heard the disgruntled teenage groan from the other side. satisfied that dylan had been served enough warning, she headed back out into the living room.

she had put eddie in charge of moving the halloween candy from the massive carboard costco boxes to the festive plastic bowls, and he was doing a surprisingly okay job at it.

their life had changed drastically in the years since her husband had begun to share his body with a symbiote. the symbiote had once given dylan nightmares, and she had fielded one too many concerned calls from the school after he had gone around and told all of the other kids that his father was an alien and would eat anybody who was mean to him (although, once eddie and venom had bonded, venom was steadfast in his commitment to eating any bullies that dylan may face) it had taken time, and a lot of home repairs to get used to, but alas, venom now felt like one of the family.

well, more like the cousin you don't want any of your friends to meet. or the alien that your husband is in a strangely homeorotic relationship with.

"i thought venom would have eaten half of those by now." she remarked, leaning over the back of the sofa to rest her head on her husband's shoulder, hands on his chest.

"i made him promise to behave today. i don't want him scaring the little kids." eddie shrugged, turning his had to kiss his wife softly.

"what did you have to give him?"

eddie paused, waiting a beat in order to formulate an answer that wouldn't send his wife into a spiral. in the distance, he heard dylan's bedroom door open and close, and then the fourteen-year-old came bounding into the living room.

"eric's mom is like five minutes away. is it okay if i wait outside?"

keeping her hands on eddie shoulders, y/n straightened, looking over at her son. "no costume?'

she didn't miss the way that eddie's muscles tensed up under her hands, or the way dylan's pinkie finger twitched. neither of them said a word, and when her eyes zeroed in on the full boxes of nestle chocolates, she got her answer.

"edward brock, please tell me that you did not lend your symbiote to our son as a halloween costume!"

dylan's shoulder rippled black over the top of his hunter-green sweatshirt, venom's inky head materializing next to a defeated looking dylan.

"okay, we won't tell you." the symbiote said , turning to face eddie. "you told me that this was okay with mrs. b."

eddie got up from the couch, pointing a finger at the symbiote. "i said no such thing. i said we were never supposed to tell y/n under any circumstances."

"mom, it's only for the night. you let dad have venom year-round!" dylan protested, stuffing his hands in his sweater pockets. "how is this any different?"

y/n stopped and counted to twenty, eyes closed before she breathed deeply and opened them again.

"that's because your father is the one who brought venom into this house in the first place, and i didn't get a say in the matter. also, your father is an adult, and venom actually listens to him."

"i listen to nobody!"

eddie coughed. "actually, he doesn't listen to me at all. he does what he wants half of the time."

"not the point, eddie! hosting venom almost killed you."

"actually- "

"not now vee!" eddie and y/n shouted together.

eddie reached for his wife's hand, knowing that she needed something to ground her, something tangible that she could hold on to. his hand was warm and calloused, comforting. she ran her thumb over eddie's knuckles as he stepped closer, dropping his voice in the hopes that dylan and venom wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.

"y/n, you know that i wouldn't let dylan take venom out if i didn't think he could handle it. its just one night."

"eddie, venom eats people. i don't want to get calls from parents stating that their sons hung out with my son, and then they came back headless."

"he has sworn to be on his best behavior tonight." eddie insisted. "and besides, when was the last time we had a night that was just the two of us? no dylan, no venom."

she paused, trying to think, the calm was starting to ease back into her body, the initial panic subsiding. her husband was right, she knew. while nights without dylan had become more common the older he got, with the boy staying over at friend's houses or going out late with his buddies, having a husband who hosted an alien sometimes put a damper on date night.

for the past five years, she had felt like she was in a never-ending threesome. don't get her wrong, the sex was absolutely phenomenal, but she missed her husband. she missed the days when it was just the two of them, curled up in bed on a sunday afternoon, with reruns of a bad sitcom playing in the background as they made love without a care in the world.

she realized that she was excited at the idea of having sex with her husband without an alien tentacle trying to slip into her ass (which felt absolutely incredible, by the way. after the first time venom did that, she downloaded all the monsterfucking books she could find on kindle unlimited. trying to explain the plot of ice planet barbarians to eddie had been quite the spectacle).

a honk in the front driveway snapped her out of her thoughts. dylan was looking at her expectantly, venom's head still hovering in the air next to him. if it were possible for symbiotes to give puppy dog eyes, she was sure that venom would be doing so. she looked at eddie, and then back at dylan, weighing her options.

"fine. dylan, you can take venom with you."

venom and dylan gave a cheer, the teen high-fiving one of venom's slinky tentacles.

"i promise not to eat any of the children, mrs. b. only gourmet chocolate. dylan says tonight is the best night for it."

"go on." y/n laughed. "don't keep eric waiting. and be careful!"

eddie and y/n stood by the front window, eddie's hand in her back pocket as they watched dylan run down the driveway and jump into the back of eric's mom's nissan. he had grown up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he was an infant in a pumpkin costume, cradled in eddie's strong arms. now he was almost as tall as his father.

y/n let out a small yelp as she felt herself become weightless, her husband's strong, beefy arms wrapped around her thighs.

"baby, be careful! you aren't as strong without venom! i don't want you to hurt your back!"

"i'll be fine! we have a heating pad for a reason!"

the headed down the hallway in a cloud of giggles, eddie kicking the bedroom door closed behind them with a cheeky grin on his face.

oh yeah, they were going to enjoy every second of having the house to themselves.

____

it was nearing midnight when dylan brock came home, shocked to find his father in the living room, sitting on the sofa in the dark and wincing every time he moved.

"dad? what are you doing? where's mom?"

eddie groaned, trying not to move too much. the heating pad rested against his lower back, and any movement sent a sharp pain up his spine. "she's asleep. tired out."

dylan made a face, dropping his backpack next to the couch. "god damn it, dad! i don't need to know that!"

eddie chuckled. "not like that." well, sort of like that. "this week has been hard on her. between you, me and venom, she's got her hands full."

"what's the heating pad for?" dylan crossed his arms over his chest, staring his father down.

"i hurt my back. it's nothing, not important."

"oh my god! you hurt your back banging mom!"

"dylan, keep your voice down! your mother is sleeping!" eddie scolded, screwing his eyes shut. "and she doesn't know. there is nothing less sexy than pinching something in your back while-"

"stop. please. i don't want to know."

"anyways, i waited until she fell asleep to put some muscle spray on it, and that didn't help, so here i am with the heating pad. how was your night?"

"it was good. venom's fun. we went trick-or-treating around eric's neigbourhood, where all the fancy houses are. also, i think i know what possum brain tastes like." dylan scrunched up his face. "venom decided he'd eaten enough snickers bars."

"snickers are for the weak." venom grunted. "real men eat brains."

eddie laughed. "now you know what the inside of my head is like. at least venom didn't try to eat any people. i wish i never knew what grey matter tasted like."

dylan extended his hand. "it's been fun, but i think he wants his host back."

eddie took dylan's hand in his, inhaling as he felt venom fill his veins once more, the familiar voice he'd come to tolerate returning to the back of his mind. slowly, the stinging pain in his lower back started to subside, the symbiote healing him from the inside out.

"thanks buddy. i needed that." he sighed. "and thanks for looking after dylan."

"no problem, eddie. you know, you'd get hurt less around the house if you stopped doing silly things when i'm not here."

"hey dylan, do you want the symbiote back?"

dylan laughed, heading to his room. "not a chance, dad. you're the only person in the world who could handle him."

[kxsagi]

i have a request (i never know know to begin one) so you know that one tiktok trend where you have two parents and their child. And one if the parents gets one cookie and the child two and the other parent non to see if she child can share imagine that with the blue lock character and their kids (you can write whoever you want) and its always so cute and funny one even started to cry for theirbparent, one took the cookie.of their dad and gave it to the mom and my fav the child straight up gave it to the parent without question

“𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞”

a/n: miss cath pls never stop slaying with your ideas ❤️

alternated between son, daughter, and unnamed kid

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, karasu tabito, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

you and isagi set up the test all excited, hyping up your toddler like, “he’s gonna share, he’s the sweetest!” 

you hand out the cookies – two for baby, one for you, and nothing for isagi. 

your son blinks at the cookies, blinks at isagi, and then immediately places one of his cookies into isagi’s hand without a second thought. like zero hesitation. it’s instinct. 

isagi’s entire soul leaves his body. 

he’s tearing up. you’re tearing up. even the baby is grinning all proud. 

“yoichi, are you crying?” 

“n-no, i mean yes, look at our kid! he’s already a team player!!!” 

he talks about it for weeks. won’t stop showing everyone the video. 

itoshi rin

you had to beg rin to do the trend bc he doesn’t see the point. 

“she’s obviously gonna pick you. you’re her favorite.” (he says it so flatly too.) 

but he finally agrees. 

you hand out the cookies, rin sits there quietly with his empty plate. 

your kid... stares. she stares so hard at rin. 

lips quivering, eyes watering. 

and then she starts sobbing 😭 

full-blown meltdown. 

“no cookie for dada???” she sobs. 

rin freezes. doesn’t know what to do. ends up just picking the kid up and cradling her like, “it’s okay. i don’t need a cookie. don’t cry. please.” 

you’re dying laughing while filming it. 

rin’s just muttering to the baby like, “you’re too sensitive... you get that from your mom.” 

nagi seishiro

honestly, nagi didn’t even realize what was happening. 

you gave him an empty plate and he just sat there like “oh. guess i’m last.” 

meanwhile your kid is eyeing both cookies in front of her like it’s the biggest decision of her life. 

she picks up both cookies. 

and you’re thinking like awww is she gonna share? 

NOPE. 

she gives both cookies to you. 

nagi: 😐 

you: 😭 

baby: 🥰✨ 

nagi just shrugs and lays down with his head in your lap like, “that’s fine. you’re gonna share with me anyway, right?” 

(and you do. bc he looks too cute and pathetic.) 

mikage reo

reo is SO cocky before you even start. 

“our kid loves me too much to leave me with nothing. you’ll see.” 

you’re like okay big shot let’s find out. 

you hand out the cookies and reo instantly starts pouting dramatically. 

your kid is just chilling. happily munching his cookie. not even looking at reo. 

reo fake whines, “what about daddy? daddy’s hungry tooooo~” 

your toddler LAUNCHES a cookie at him like it’s a grenade. 

(he meant to share. he just has zero hand-eye coordination lol.) 

reo catches it mid-air and gasps like he just got proposed to. 

acts like he won an oscar. 

“i’d like to thank my beautiful child for believing in me...” 

you’re laughing so hard you’re snorting. 

chigiri hyoma

chigiri’s super chill about it, just giving you a soft smile when he sees you have a cookie and he doesn’t. 

your kid IMMEDIATELY notices tho. 

like she didn’t even take a bite yet – she sees dad’s empty plate and her little eyebrows furrow all concerned. 

then she hands over a cookie to chigiri with this very solemn, serious face. like it’s a ceremony. 

chigiri plays along, accepts it with both hands like she gave him sacred treasure. 

bows his head a little like he’s receiving a medal. 

you’re sitting there like why are they both so dramatic LMAO. 

cutest thing ever though. you post the video and it goes viral. 

karasu tabito

karasu would try to cheat at first. 

tries to sneak a sad face at the kid to guilt-trip them. 

your kid sees through it IMMEDIATELY. 

literally points at him and goes, “faker.” 😭 

karasu gasps so loud, clutches his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. 

“baby girl, how could you betray me like this?” 

ends up stealing one of the cookies off your plate and running away like a gremlin. 

your toddler thinks it’s hilarious and chases after him. 

the video is just pure chaos. 

bachira meguru

oh this one’s instant. 

bachira pouts exaggeratedly, making big sad eyes. 

your kid just grins all mischievous and feeds him the cookie. 

like literally sticks it into his mouth with his chubby little hands. 

bachira starts laughing mid-bite, which makes your toddler giggle uncontrollably, which makes you laugh too. 

it’s just a big spiral of giggles and crumbs everywhere. 

the purest, happiest family vibes. 

kaiser michael

“what do you mean i don’t get a cookie? i’m the man of the family.” 

very offended before you even start. 

you roll your eyes and hand out the plates. 

your kid, chaotic little gremlin, takes all the cookies. 

and gives both to you. 

kaiser looks so betrayed. 

he’s like “how dare you choose her over me??? i thought we had something special???” 

meanwhile your kid is giggling like “mommy’s the best!” and clinging to your leg. 

kaiser acts all hurt and sulky for five minutes until you shove a cookie in his mouth and give him a kiss. 

then he’s fine again lol. 

shidou ryusei

shidou immediately makes a huge scene when he doesn’t get a cookie. 

“hey! what is this injustice?!” 

your kid’s like 😐 and just stares at him. 

shidou tries to work his charm, all “come on, buddy. daddy’s hungry tooooo~” 

he literally hands over both cookies at the same time and walks off like, “there, done.” 

shidou’s left standing there stunned. 

“wait... what? that’s it? no big speech, no big drama? nothing?” 

you’re dying, while your son just shrugs and starts playing with his toys, clearly satisfied with his cookie diplomacy. 

shidou still insists on making it dramatic though, waving his cookie around like a trophy and making “victory” noises. 

“i may have gotten no cookies, but i’m still the king of this house!” 

your kid rolls his eyes. 

itoshi sae

sae... is too smooth for this. he’s lowkey a little smug about the whole thing. 

“you’re really going to give me nothing? i’m offended, darling.” 

you hand out the cookies, and your kid looks at the cookies... then looks at you, then at sae, and just gives you one of her cookies without question. 

sae’s left there with no cookie. 

he’s watching it all happen, like in slow motion. 

you’re trying so hard not to laugh while sae just... blinks. 

“... i see. so this is how it is.” 

your kid grins proudly, as if she solved some big mystery. 

sae stares at you with a look like, i’m not even mad. i’m just disappointed. 

“well, at least i know who the real favorite is.” 

you’re like, babe, you’re still the most handsome, you know that right? 

he just grumbles, looking away. 

you’re dying and your kid is straight-up chilling in the background. 

ness alexis

ness is not okay with not getting a cookie. 

he pretends to be all chill, but you can see the twitch in his eye as he watches your kid get two cookies and you get one. 

the kid doesn’t even hesitate. 

she just looks at you, then hands both cookies over to you. 

ness looks like he’s been betrayed. 

“this… this is unacceptable.” 

he dramatically holds his hand out like please, just one. 

your kid just shrugs and plops back down to continue playing. 

“you’re not gonna share?” ness asks in the most dramatic voice possible. 

she looks at him, then looks at you, and just turns back to playing with her toys like she's already moved on. 

ness? absolutely dying on the inside. 

he keeps glancing at the cookies like he’s waiting for a miracle. 

finally, he sighs and snatches one of your cookies, slumping dramatically on the couch like, “fine, i’ll settle for this one.” 

your kid gives him the most unimpressed look. 

“that’s not a cookie for you. that’s a cookie for mom.” 

ness: 😭 “you’re not wrong...” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[aspenmissing]

Could you write the Arcane characters interacting with Reader's baby bump? (The male characters in a romantic way and the female characters in a platonic / best friends way)

ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴜᴍᴘ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 4045 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ?

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ!! < 3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

Jayce was in his workshop, tinkering with his latest invention, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the warmth of the apartment. Y/N had been radiating this special glow ever since they'd found out she was expecting, and he couldn't help but marvel at how life had changed for them.

He paused his work, glancing toward the door, his face softening as he caught sight of Y/N entering. She walked in with a gentle sway, her baby bump clearly visible beneath her loose-fitting blouse. Jayce smiled, completely distracted by the sight of her.

"You know," he said, his voice a little distracted as he stood from his desk, "you’re glowing even more than usual today."

Y/N chuckled, placing a hand on her belly, a look of playful disbelief crossing her face. "I think you just say that because you’re always trying to get me to smile."

"Well," Jayce took a step closer, gently resting his hand on the curve of her bump, "it's hard not to smile when you're carrying our little one." His voice dropped softly, filled with awe as his fingers lightly traced over her stomach, feeling the little movements of the baby.

Y/N leaned into him, her head resting on his chest as she looked up at him with a smile. "I still can't believe it's happening. Feels like just yesterday I was getting used to being here, and now... we’re here, together, with a baby."

Jayce’s heart swelled as he pulled her into a tender embrace, his hand still resting gently over her bump. "It feels like a dream, doesn’t it?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But it’s our dream, and I couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else."

Y/N laughed softly, the sound of it filling the room. "I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad it’s always been you."

Jayce held her tighter, savoring the moment. His mind raced with excitement for the future, for their little family that was already so loved. As he looked down at her, he whispered, "We’re going to be amazing parents, you know."

Y/N smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. "I know. And I’ll have you by my side through it all."

As Jayce gave her belly one more gentle rub, he couldn’t resist. "Do you think they’ll be as smart as their mom?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. "As smart? Oh, they’ll definitely have my brains... but they’ll also have your charm and wit, so it’s bound to be a good mix."

Jayce laughed, his hands still lingering on her stomach. "A perfect blend. I can't wait to meet them."

The two of them stood there for a moment, wrapped in the peace and joy of the life growing between them, knowing that whatever came next, they’d face it together.

VIKTOR

The dim light of Viktor's lab flickered softly as he worked on his latest project, the steady hum of machines in the background. Y/N sat nearby, her legs tucked under her as she rested on a plush chair. Her hand gently cradled her baby bump, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she observed Viktor. He had been focused on his work all day, but there was a soft tension in the air as his thoughts would occasionally wander to her.

He looked up from his workbench, meeting her gaze. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with concern.

Y/N nodded, but her smile grew wider when she saw the subtle way Viktor’s eyes lingered on her bump. She loved the way his face softened whenever he looked at her, especially now. The early months had been a whirlwind of uncertainty, but now, as the pregnancy progressed, Viktor had become a rock for her—steady, calm, and full of quiet affection.

"Are you sure you're not overworking yourself?" Y/N teased, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of her bump.

Viktor hesitated for a moment before walking over to her. His hands were warm as they cupped the sides of her stomach gently, his eyes studying her as if the simple act of touching her was an overwhelming thing. "I’m not overworking," he murmured, his voice low. "But… I do worry." He carefully placed his hand over her belly, letting his fingers rest softly against the growing life within.

Y/N chuckled softly. "I’m fine, Viktor. She’s fine, too," she added, feeling the baby shift slightly beneath her skin. She glanced down at his hand, which was resting on her bump, the moment tender and intimate.

Viktor’s expression softened, and for a brief second, his usually sharp and meticulous demeanor melted away. His eyes lit up with something indescribable, a mix of awe and tenderness as he gazed at the baby bump. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for any movement, like he was trying to connect to the tiny life growing inside her.

And then, it happened—a small, subtle kick. Viktor’s eyes widened, and a soft laugh escaped his lips. He placed his hand gently on the spot where the movement had come from, as if trying to reassure himself that it was real. "Did you feel that?" he whispered, his voice barely a breath, full of wonder.

Y/N nodded, her smile widening. "Yes, I did." She reached up to gently touch his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I think she’s excited to meet her papa."

Viktor’s face flushed slightly at the word. His hand remained on her belly, his thumb moving in slow, careful circles as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I will be ready when the time comes," he said, his voice a quiet promise. "I’ll be right here, every step of the way."

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection for him, knowing how deeply he meant every word. She leaned into him, closing her eyes and letting the moment envelop them both—together, as a family, anticipating the future they would share.

And as Viktor continued to tenderly touch her belly, Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace, knowing that this tiny life would be surrounded by so much love.

JAYVIK

The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle warmth across the room. Y/N woke slowly, stretching out on the bed, her body cradled in the comfort of the soft sheets. Her eyes fluttered open to see Viktor beside her, his head resting gently on her shoulder, a peaceful expression on his face. His hand, warm and steady, lay across her belly—his touch so tender, it almost felt like he was holding the life within her in a protective embrace.

For a moment, Y/N simply gazed at him, the sensation of his presence calming and reassuring. She then shifted slightly, turning her head to glance at the space beside the bed. "Where's Jayce?" she murmured softly, her voice still thick with sleep, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment.

Viktor stirred slightly at her words, his eyes blinking open, his gaze warm but sleepy. "He's probably in the workshop or the kitchen... Where else would he be?" He smiled, but Y/N's eyes were already drawn back to the movement beneath the covers.

Curious, she lifted the edge of the blanket to peek under it. There, to her surprise, was Jayce, his face buried in the side of her baby bump, his large hand gently caressing it. He looked so serene, his eyes closed, and there was a quiet hum of contentment as his fingers traced slow, soft patterns along her skin.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight. The love and care the two of them showed, even in the smallest moments, made her heart swell. Viktor, now fully awake, chuckled softly as he saw the scene. "He's... always been a bit of a morning person," he said, his voice full of affection.

Y/N laughed softly, running a hand through Jayce's hair. "I think he just wanted to get as close to the baby as possible," she teased, her voice light.

Jayce, hearing her, lifted his head slightly, his face still pressed against her belly. His eyes glimmered with affection as he met her gaze. "Couldn't resist," he murmured with a grin, his hand never stopping its gentle motions on her belly.

Viktor leaned in, brushing his lips against Y/N's forehead, his voice soft and filled with warmth. "Looks like we have our own little family morning ritual."

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of her love for both of them as they shared this intimate moment. The room felt filled with an almost magical peace—a quiet reminder that despite the chaos of the world outside, they had each other, and that was enough.

She placed a hand on Viktor's, the other resting on Jayce's head. "I love you both," she whispered softly, her heart full. The two men, in their own unique ways, both smiled, their love for her and the baby clear in their eyes.

"We love you, too," Viktor replied softly, and Jayce added, "More than anything."

As the three of them lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the outside world felt distant, and for that moment, they were content to simply be.

VANDER

It was a typical day in the undercity, the hustle and bustle of Zaun never stopping. But today, there was a special kind of excitement in the air, especially within the small, cozy living space above Vander’s tavern, The Last Drop.

Y/N, now a little further along in her pregnancy, was sitting comfortably in one of the worn-out chairs, her hand resting on her baby bump. She had been feeling the baby kicking for a while now, and every time it happened, she couldn’t help but smile.

Vander, who had been busy with some work around the bar downstairs, glanced over at her with a soft grin. "You look like you're getting ready to pop any day now," he teased lightly, his rough voice betraying the gentle affection he had for her. He leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a rag, his gaze soft as he looked at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’m not that big, Vander," she said playfully.

Vander chuckled. "Right, sure." He then turned his attention to the door, hearing the familiar sounds of footsteps and laughter. The kids—Vi, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor—had been coming around more often to check on her, always excited about the little one growing inside her.

Vi came barreling in first, the rough-and-tumble girl grinning from ear to ear. “I wanna feel the baby kick! Can I?”

Y/N laughed softly, patting her belly. "You can try."

Vi’s face lit up, and she gently placed her hands on Y/N’s bump, her eyes wide with excitement. "Whoa, I can feel it!" she exclaimed. "It’s so weird but cool!" Her expression softened, and she looked up at Y/N. “You’re gonna be such a good mom.”

Y/N’s heart melted at the sweet sentiment. She hadn’t had the chance to speak much about her plans for motherhood, but hearing Vi’s words made her feel like she was doing something right.

Powder, who had been standing at the door, looking a little shy, approached with her usual curiosity. "Me too! Can I feel?"

Vander, always protective of his "kids," knelt down to Powder’s level, a big hand on her shoulder. "It’s okay, kiddo," he said gently, giving Y/N an encouraging nod.

With a soft giggle, Powder tiptoed over and placed her small hands on Y/N’s baby bump. Her eyes widened when she felt the gentle shift. "It’s moving! I’m gonna be the best big sister ever," she announced, practically bouncing on her heels in excitement.

Mylo and Claggor entered together, following behind their friends. Mylo, always the mischievous one, grinned and raised an eyebrow at the scene. “Looks like you’re already starting a whole army, Y/N,” he teased, crossing his arms.

Claggor, quieter than the others, leaned against the wall, his usual stoic expression softened with a fond smile. “You’ll have a lot of help, that’s for sure,” he said, his voice calm but sincere.

Vander chuckled from his spot across the room, clearly enjoying the scene. He glanced over at Y/N, his expression soft. "You’ll have a whole crew to help you out," he said with a wink. "Just make sure the little one doesn’t end up causing as much trouble as Powder."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, her voice teasing. "You mean you didn’t cause trouble when you were younger?"

Vander chuckled, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Maybe a little, but I’ve learned my lesson. Now I just have to pass on that wisdom."

Vi and Powder giggled at the exchange, while Mylo and Claggor shared an amused look. Y/N leaned back in her chair, basking in the comfort of the moment. The excitement of her growing family surrounded her, and with Vander by her side, she knew everything would be alright.

The kids continued to gather around, asking more questions, offering more excitement, and making Y/N’s heart swell with love. She was going to be a mother, and with Vander, Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor, and all of them by her side, she knew her little one would be surrounded by so much love and protection.

"Think we’ll get a little troublemaker in the mix?" Vi asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N grinned, her hand gently rubbing her belly. "With you two as role models? I’m sure of it."

Vander’s booming laughter filled the room, and for a moment, all felt right in the world.

And in that moment, surrounded by the kids she’d come to love as her own and Vander’s comforting presence above The Last Drop, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this new chapter in her life would be full of love, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.

SILCO

Silco sat at his desk in his dimly lit office, his gaze unwavering as he reviewed the latest plans for Zaun. The ever-present hum of machinery in the background almost seemed to blend into the silence.

Then, the door creaked open, and in stepped Y/N, her baby bump now noticeably prominent as she walked toward him. She smiled softly, her face lighting up with a warmth that seemed to make the cold, grim atmosphere of the room a little more bearable.

"You look like you're deep in thought," she said, her voice gentle.

Silco looked up from his papers, his steely eyes softening when they met hers. He had been through many things in his life—power struggles, betrayal, and the dark underworld of Zaun—but nothing quite compared to the feeling that swept over him whenever he saw her. And now, with the baby bump growing, it was as though something more fragile and precious was growing inside their world.

He pushed back from his desk and stood, a rare softness in his usually sharp features. "And what brings you here?" His voice had an edge, but there was a tenderness underneath it that he reserved only for her.

Y/N placed a hand on her belly and walked closer. "I just thought you might like to feel the baby," she said, her tone teasing. "You've been so focused on work lately, you haven't gotten a chance to see how much they’re growing."

A rare flicker of uncertainty passed through Silco’s eyes. He didn’t know much about babies or pregnancy, but there was a look of fondness in his gaze when he saw how protective and glowing Y/N looked.

She gently guided his hand to her stomach, and for a moment, Silco stood still, the warmth of her body and the tiny life growing inside her bringing an unfamiliar feeling to his chest. The baby kicked softly, a small flutter that made her smile wider.

"Feel that?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with excitement.

Silco’s fingers twitched slightly as he pressed his hand more firmly against her belly, feeling the subtle movements beneath his palm. His lips parted in a small, almost imperceptible smile, the rarest of expressions crossing his usually composed face.

"It’s... strange," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "But it’s yours. Ours."

Y/N’s smile widened, a warm, loving look passing between them. She nodded, her hand over his as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "Yes, ours."

Silco’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he allowed himself to lean down slightly, brushing a kiss against the top of her head. "I never thought I’d be here," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Not like this."

Y/N chuckled softly, her eyes shining with affection. "Well, here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed, a rare tenderness in his voice. He couldn’t help but run his fingers across her belly again, feeling the baby move once more, as if marking the beginning of a future he had never imagined.

For a moment, Silco allowed himself to savour the peace, even if it was fleeting in a world that would never be kind to them. But for now, the only thing that mattered was the life growing between them, the one thing that he could protect with everything he had.

JINX/POWDER

Jinx bounced around excitedly, her usual chaotic energy tempered by a rare, gentle excitement. Y/N was sitting on the couch, her hand resting over her growing belly, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched the madness of Zaun unfold through the window.

Jinx skidded to a halt in front of Y/N, her eyes immediately locking onto her friend’s baby bump. Her grin spread wider than usual, but there was a tenderness in it now, a contrast to her usual manic grin.

"Y/N! Y/N! How’s my little niece or nephew doin’ in there?" Jinx asked, bouncing on her toes as she leaned in close, eyes wide with curiosity. She’d known about the pregnancy for a while now, but it never failed to get her excited whenever she saw Y/N with her baby bump.

Y/N chuckled softly, glancing down at her belly with a soft, protective smile. "They're doing well. Growing every day," she said, her voice filled with warmth as she gently rubbed the bump.

Jinx’s face shifted into one of mock seriousness, her hands immediately cupping the sides of Y/N’s bump as if she was inspecting something fragile. "Whoa, you’re getting huge!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of awe and playful teasing. "This little one’s gonna be a big deal, huh? So important!"

She paused for a moment, eyes full of determination, before looking up at Y/N with a gaze that was almost protective. "I’m gonna be the best aunt ever! I’ll protect ‘em from all the bad stuff out there!" Jinx gestured dramatically to the world outside, her usual chaotic flair returning. "No one’s gonna mess with my little one! I’ll teach ‘em all the best stuff—like blowing stuff up!"

Y/N laughed, a warm, fond chuckle that filled the room. "You’re gonna be the best aunt, Jinx. The baby’s gonna love you."

Jinx’s grin grew wider, her chest puffing up proudly. "Of course! No one else could be as awesome as Aunt Jinx! I’ll make sure the little one has all the best toys—super explosive ones! And we’ll make a fort out of all the stuff I’ve blown up! It’ll be perfect!"

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for her unpredictable friend. She knew Jinx had a complicated past, but it was moments like these that showed just how much Jinx cared—and how deeply she was capable of loving in her own wild way.

"You’ll definitely be the best aunt," Y/N agreed, rubbing her belly gently. "But for now, maybe start thinking about ways to entertain the baby when they’re older—something a little less... explosive than your usual brand of fun."

Jinx’s expression turned contemplative as she tilted her head, clearly thinking hard about that suggestion. After a moment, her eyes lit up. "Okay! I’ll tell the baby the best stories. And maybe… just maybe... I’ll make ‘em a secret stash of cookies... and dynamite. Secretly! You know, just in case they need some excitement in their life."

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head fondly. "You’re something else, Jinx. But I think that’s what makes you the best aunt."

Jinx giggled, then without warning, sat down next to Y/N and wrapped her arms around her in a surprisingly gentle hug. "You’ll be the best mom, Y/N. No one’s gonna mess with us. Right? We’re a team."

Y/N returned the hug, a swell of gratitude filling her chest for the unexpected, yet deeply loyal friendship they shared. "We’re a team, Jinx. Always."

And in that moment, surrounded by Jinx’s protectiveness and boundless enthusiasm, Y/N felt a sense of peace, knowing her baby would grow up surrounded by love—no matter how unpredictable the world around them might be.

MEL

Mel had always been the type to care deeply for others, especially those she considered family. Y/N was no different, and seeing her friend in this new light—carrying a child—brought a softness to her heart that she hadn’t expected.

She gently knocked on Y/N’s door, her voice light as she called through, “Y/N, are you awake?”

A muffled response came from inside. “Yeah, just a little tired today.”

Mel smiled, pushing the door open and peeking in to see her friend, who was sitting propped up in bed, a soft blanket tucked around her. Y/N’s baby bump was noticeably round now, a comforting sight after everything she’d been through.

“Need any help getting up?” Mel asked with a slight tilt of her head, her voice soft and warm. She was always so careful around Y/N, ever since the pregnancy had started to show.

Y/N gave her a small, grateful smile. “I can manage, but if you want to help me to the couch, I’d appreciate it.”

Mel immediately moved over, holding out her hands to help steady Y/N as she slowly rose to her feet. “Slow and steady, okay?” she said, guiding her gently to the living room.

Once they were settled, Mel made sure Y/N was comfortable before sitting beside her. She could never shake the worry that Y/N wasn’t eating enough, despite her insistence. “Did you eat today?” she asked, her voice a mix of concern and love.

Y/N sighed but nodded. “I did, just a little light lunch. But I’ll have something more later.”

Mel pursed her lips, her eyes scanning her friend's face, searching for any hint that Y/N might be pushing herself too hard. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, Y/N. The baby needs you to eat, too.” She gently placed a hand on the bump, a soft smile forming as she added, “They’re gonna need their energy to grow big and strong.”

Y/N chuckled lightly, looking down at her belly. “I’m doing my best. But you’re right. Maybe I could eat a little more.”

Mel’s smile brightened, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I’ll make you something. You rest, and I’ll take care of it.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she leaned back against the cushions. “You’re too good to me, Mel.”

Mel shook her head, her expression warm. “I’m just looking out for you. You’re my family, and that means everything to me.”

As Mel made her way to the kitchen, Y/N watched her, a sense of deep gratitude settling in her chest. Despite everything that had happened, she was surrounded by people who cared for her and the life she was carrying, and that was something worth cherishing.

When Mel returned with a plate of food, she smiled as she set it down in front of Y/N. “I made sure it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

Y/N looked down at the plate and smiled softly, her eyes glistening with appreciation. “You really know how to take care of me.”

Mel sat beside her once again, offering a light hug. “It’s just what I do for family.”

The two of them sat together in the quiet comfort of each other’s company, the bond between them growing even stronger with every passing day.

[bimbodolllll]

Hi koli i saw your request were open and was wondering if you could do a Tokyo revengers x reader (final timeline) where they have a baby and they say their first word with preferably: chifyuy, kazutora, baji, mikey, izana, rindou, shinichiro and any others you would like to include

۶ৎ. Babies First.

Tokyo Revenger Boys.

۶ৎ auth: ahhhh omg my first request in like so long, I’m actually so excited to work on this!!! Feel free to request any anime, show or movie, and any character!! :) I might make a taglist.

۶ৎ Summary: After so much back and forth to fix the future, you’ve finally settled down—and finally had a baby. The joys of parenthood only continue and your baby says their first words.

۶ৎ: sfw | scenario | fem reader | babies/parenthood | fluff | time skipped | implied poc reader, though you could ignore the information that doesn't fit you.

۶ৎ Characters Included: Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Baji Keisuke, Manjiro (Mikey) Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Rindou Haitani, Shinichiro Sano, Kokonoi Hajime, Ken Ryuguji.

۶ৎChifuyu Matsuno

It’s an ordinary evening, and Chifuyu sits with the baby on his lap, his calm, logical demeanor softened by the tiny bundle in his arms. His black undercut, neatly styled, contrasts with the gentle warmth that radiates from him as he softly coos at the little one, a sense of peace enveloping the moment. The baby’s big, curious eyes stare up at him, the faintest glimmer of recognition in their gaze.

You’re nearby, watching quietly from the kitchen, as usual, keeping a close eye on the small family gathering. The baby shifts slightly in Chifuyu’s arms, their little hands reaching out, exploring, unsure of the world but finding comfort in the familiar presence of their father.

Chifuyu looks at the baby, a tender smile creeping across his face. He’s normally so composed, always the steady one, but this… this softens him, makes him feel an unfamiliar kind of warmth. “Come on,” he murmurs softly, “say something for me.”

The baby babbles incoherently for a moment, small giggles escaping their lips as they grab hold of his finger, wrapping their tiny hand around it like it’s the most important thing in the world. Chifuyu chuckles, shaking his head softly. “You’re as stubborn as your mom,” he says under his breath, smiling at the thought of you.

Then, suddenly, the baby’s little voice breaks the silence. It’s not a full word, but there’s a clear attempt to speak. “Da-da!” the baby declares proudly, their voice high-pitched but full of delight. Chifuyu freezes for a moment, his face lighting up with surprise, a hint of pride showing in his usually calm features.

You, hearing the unexpected word, laugh softly from your spot, watching the exchange. Chifuyu’s usual composed self cracks for a brief moment as he stares down at the baby in awe. “Did… did you just say ‘Dada’?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s delighted.

The baby repeats it again, this time with even more enthusiasm, “Da-da!” Chifuyu shakes his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Guess I’ll take that as a victory.”

You walk over quietly, your heart swelling at the sight of Chifuyu, who’s always so composed, now with the smallest of smiles, cradling their child with complete adoration. The baby, seeing you, reaches out with their tiny arms, making a soft noise of recognition.

“Looks like you’ve got competition,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, your voice light and playful.

Chifuyu’s face turns slightly red, his calm demeanor returning, though the smile still lingers. “It’s just a fluke,” he mutters, though it’s clear he’s overjoyed. The baby giggles again, the sound filling the room, and Chifuyu leans in, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead. “I can’t believe you said ‘Dada’ first,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection.

The baby, oblivious to the momentous occasion, just giggles again, content in the safety of their father’s arms. It’s a simple, tender moment, but to Chifuyu, it’s everything.

۶ৎKazutora Hanemiya

The air is still, heavy with the calm that comes with the evening as Kazutora sits on the couch, a small, fragile smile on his face as he looks down at the baby resting in his arms. His long, black hair, streaked with yellow, falls lazily over his shoulders, the strands a contrast to the tenderness with which he holds the child. There’s an unfamiliar peace in his expression, a quiet moment of solace after all the chaos that’s filled his life. His usually volatile demeanor seems distant as he looks at the little one, their soft breaths the only sound between them.

You’re just a few steps away, your presence like a gentle echo in the background, keeping watch as Kazutora carefully adjusts the baby in his arms, the kind of delicate handling that surprises even him. He’s never been one for softness, always pushing against the world with a hardness that left little room for gentleness—until now. He looks down, eyes tracing the baby’s tiny hands, the little fingers wrapped around his own with surprising strength.

The baby stirs, their wide eyes blinking up at him, and Kazutora’s breath catches slightly in his chest. For a moment, it’s as if everything else—the turmoil, the chaos, the memories—fades into the background, leaving only this quiet exchange between father and child.

Kazutora’s voice is soft, almost hesitant as he speaks to the baby, a far cry from the manic energy he once carried. “Hey, little one… can you say something for me?” he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet kind of longing, though it’s not for the world outside—it’s for this fragile connection he never thought he would have.

The baby, in their own way, tries to respond, making gurgling noises that grow into more distinct sounds. Kazutora watches in silent anticipation, a rare, genuine smile creeping onto his face as the baby’s mouth moves again. It’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for the right moment to speak.

Then, with a bright, innocent giggle, the baby suddenly blurts out a word, though it’s not what Kazutora expected. “Dada!” they say, the sound coming out in a clear, high-pitched tone.

Kazutora freezes, his eyes wide in disbelief for a second. His heart lurches unexpectedly in his chest, and he looks down at the baby as though they’ve just given him the most precious gift. His expression softens, a deep and almost bittersweet tenderness settling in his gaze. “Dada…” he repeats under his breath, as though trying to wrap his mind around it. There’s a tremor in his voice, something raw and vulnerable that he doesn’t often let surface.

You can’t help but smile as you watch the moment unfold, the baby’s innocent giggle filling the room, unaware of the weight they’ve just placed on Kazutora’s heart. Kazutora’s fingers twitch slightly as he holds them closer, his past, his pain, his regret all swirling beneath the surface of this simple, unexpected moment.

The baby, sensing the comfort of Kazutora’s embrace, reaches up with their tiny hands, trying to grab at his face. Kazutora laughs softly, the sound foreign yet warm as he leans into the baby’s touch. “You’re gonna make me soft, huh?” he mutters, though there’s no bitterness in his words—only a quiet affection.

You step forward then, offering him a soft, knowing glance. Kazutora looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, everything between the two of you seems to settle. There’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze, something that says more than words ever could.

Kazutora’s voice breaks the silence, still low and almost tender. “I never thought I’d be here, y’know? This… this feels different.”

You smile gently, watching him with the baby in his arms, a sense of peace settling over you both. The moment is fleeting, but it’s a reminder—Kazutora, despite his past, is finding something he never thought he deserved.

۶ৎBaji Keisuke

The night is quiet, the soft hum of the streetlights casting a dim glow in the room where Baji sits, his wild, untamed jet-black hair falling to his shoulders in loose waves. His usual grin is absent for the moment, replaced by a look of calm as he watches the baby in his arms, who is squirming lightly, their little hands reaching up as if trying to make sense of the world around them. There’s an intensity in Baji’s eyes, but it’s not the usual fire of a fight—it’s something softer, something that only surfaces when he’s with his family.

You stand by the doorway, leaning against the frame, quietly watching the scene unfold. Baji, who is always full of energy, the type to jump into action at any given moment, seems almost frozen in this moment, the wild spark in his eyes replaced by a rare tenderness as he holds the baby close to his chest.

The baby gurgles softly, their small face scrunching in curiosity as they look up at him. Baji’s lips twitch into a small smile, but it’s different than his usual mischievous grin—it’s something warmer, more protective. “What’s going on in that head of yours, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, though a hint of his usual playful nature is still there.

The baby babbles in response, their little voice almost a melody as they stare at Baji with wide, innocent eyes. And then, as if on a whim, the baby utters a word. It’s clear and unambiguous, the word they’ve been practicing, but it’s not what Baji expected.

“Dada!” The word rings out, not perfectly clear, but undeniably present.

Baji’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usual grin falters, replaced by something almost vulnerable. He looks down at the baby, his hand resting gently against their tiny back, and the slightest breath escapes him. His fingers twitch as if unsure how to react to the sudden surge of emotion he didn’t anticipate. His heart pounds, a rush of warmth flooding through him, and despite all his bravado, there’s a crack in the tough exterior.

You smile, stepping a little closer to them, your heart swelling at the sight. “Looks like you’ve got a little fan there,” you tease softly.

Baji’s grin slowly returns, though it’s softer now, not the usual wild energy that so often defines him, but something more intimate. He leans down, his sharp canine teeth flashing briefly as he chuckles under his breath, the sound light and full of affection. “Yeah, I guess so.” He says it with his usual swagger, but it’s evident that something about the moment has shifted. This isn’t a victory he expected, but it’s a victory that matters more than any battle.

The baby reaches up toward his face, their tiny fingers brushing against his cheek, and Baji’s heart skips a beat. He looks at you for a moment, a wordless exchange between the two of you, before he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Good job,” he mutters, his voice soft but steady.

You can’t help but watch the moment unfold with a quiet admiration. Baji, the wild, adrenaline-fueled force of nature, has just experienced something that slows him down, something that pulls him out of the chaos of the world and into a simple, pure connection. The baby giggles, their tiny hands grasping for his hair, and Baji laughs too, the sound genuine and full of joy.

For a brief moment, the world outside seems distant, and all that matters is the little family in that room—the wild heart of Baji, softened and made whole in the presence of his child.

۶ৎManjiro (Mikey) Sano

Mikey sits in the quiet of the living room, the soft hum of the clock the only sound besides the gentle breath of the baby in his arms. His short, dark hair is parted neatly at the middle, the weight of the world outside this moment temporarily forgotten. The familiar carefree energy that Mikey is known for seems absent now, replaced by a tenderness he rarely shows. He’s holding the little one close, his hands steady and secure around them, the once-unshakable pillar of Toman now softened by something unexpected.

The baby stirs in his arms, their small face scrunching in confusion as they try to adjust to the world around them. Mikey watches them with a faint smile, though there’s something more complex behind his eyes. The carefree grin that usually defines him is replaced by a quiet focus, a vulnerability that he seldom allows others to see. His heart is heavy with thoughts of the past, of everything he’s lost, but in this moment, the baby offers him something pure, something he hasn’t had in a long time—peace.

The baby’s tiny hand reaches up, grasping for the fabric of his suit, their tiny fingers curling in and out as if trying to touch something they don’t fully understand yet. Mikey’s breath catches in his chest, his gaze softening. He can feel the warmth of their small body, the innocent trust they place in him without question, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of his own burdens lifts just slightly.

“Mama?” The baby says, the word coming out softly but unmistakably.

Mikey freezes. The sound is far from perfect, the baby’s voice still nasally and unsure, but it’s clear enough, and Mikey’s heart skips a beat. He blinks down at the child, his expression flickering between surprise and a strange tenderness, something unfamiliar and soft that he never expected to experience. His hand twitches, fingers tightening around the baby instinctively as if protecting them from the world outside.

You, standing nearby, catch his gaze, the understanding between the two of you unspoken. Mikey clears his throat, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances at you, trying to regain some of his usual bravado. “Guess that’s not the word I was hoping for,” he says, his tone playful, though there’s a depth to it, a warmth he’s not used to showing.

The baby reaches up again, this time grasping Mikey’s finger, their touch delicate yet insistent. Mikey smiles softly, the usual coldness in his eyes replaced with something warmer, something that speaks to the weight of the love he’s learning to give. “It’s okay, little one,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Maybe next time, huh?”

He presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. The moment feels suspended in time, as if the world around him has faded and all that matters is this—the small, fragile life in his arms and the quiet peace they’ve brought him, in spite of everything he’s carried.

You step closer, watching the scene with a soft smile of your own. Mikey looks up at you then, his expression still soft, but now there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He may have once carried a darkness that threatened to consume him, but here, now, with his child in his arms, that darkness feels far away, as if for a brief moment, he can just be… Mikey. The Mikey who is a child at heart, who’s capable of tenderness and love even amidst the weight of his past.

With a soft chuckle, Mikey leans back slightly, his hand still holding the baby close as he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “You heard that, right?” he asks, his voice teasing but there’s something vulnerable in it too. “They said ‘mama.’ Guess I’m off the hook for now.”

You laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. Mikey’s grin widens just a little, and though it’s not the wild grin of a fighter or leader, it’s something just as genuine—something that feels like a promise, a reassurance that even with all the darkness he’s faced, he’s finding light again. And maybe, just maybe, this little one is part of that light.

۶ৎIzana Kurokawa

Izana sits in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of a guitar string resonating in the air. His large purple eyes, usually cold and calculating, are softened by the warmth of the baby in his arms. His wavy hair falls gently around his face, the strands catching the light as he adjusts the baby’s tiny body against his chest, the faint scent of plants and the soft ripple of water from the fish tank nearby offering a peaceful backdrop to an otherwise chaotic life. He had never imagined this—holding a child, one so small, so fragile in his arms. His usual detachment feels muted, replaced by a strange sense of responsibility, a sensation he’s never quite allowed himself to experience before.

The baby stirs in his arms, eyes blinking open and gaze unfocused, their small hands reaching out in curiosity. Izana’s usual composure doesn’t waver, but the faintest trace of tenderness lingers in his gaze as he watches the child, something unfamiliar surfacing beneath the layers of bitterness and coldness he’s built over the years.

The baby makes a small noise, a soft whine, their lips twitching as they try to vocalize something. Izana tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, waiting. His fingers gently caress the baby’s back, an instinctive gesture of care that surprises even him. In the silence of the room, a soft and tentative word escapes the baby’s lips. It’s not quite clear, but the intention is unmistakable.

“Dada.”

Izana freezes. His grip on the guitar tightens for a brief moment, his eyes blinking as he processes the sound, the word hanging in the air like a sudden, unexpected shift in his world. It’s simple—just one word—but for someone like Izana, who has spent most of his life surrounded by cold, violence, and manipulation, hearing such a soft and innocent utterance stirs something deep within him.

A flash of his past flashes through his mind—the loneliness, the bitterness that once consumed him. He had never felt a connection to anyone, certainly not like this. He had always been the one to push people away, to make himself unapproachable, but here, in this moment, the baby’s small hand wraps around his finger, their soft grip a reminder of something pure, something he had lost long ago—the ability to care without expecting anything in return.

He exhales slowly, his face betraying nothing but the faintest softness that only the baby could elicit from him. His hand gently lifts the child, their eyes still wide with curiosity, before he leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

“Dada, huh?” Izana murmurs, his voice quiet but not without a hint of amusement, the corners of his lips turning upward in a small, unexpected smile. It’s a rare sight, one that doesn’t appear often, but in the quiet presence of the baby, it feels more natural than anything he’s ever known. “Guess I’m not as bad as I thought,” he adds softly, almost to himself.

You, standing nearby, watch the scene unfold with a knowing smile. Izana doesn’t often allow anyone to witness such moments, but here, now, with the child in his arms, the pieces of his past—the anger, the bitterness—seem to fade into the background, if only for a moment. Izana looks up at you then, his eyes softer than usual, as if silently asking for your approval, for reassurance that he’s doing this right. That he’s not as lost as he often feels.

He doesn’t say anything more, but the warmth in his eyes speaks volumes. The man who once sought power, control, and dominance has now found something far more valuable—a sense of purpose, a bond he never thought he would have. As he looks down at the baby, his grip tightening slightly around them.

۶ৎRindou Haitani

Rindou sat on the floor of the living room, legs stretched out, his back against the couch, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. His pinkish-purple mullet, with its dark blue roots and tips, was damp from a shower, strands falling messily around his face. He had a lazy, almost indifferent expression as he stared at his phone, absently scrolling, but his free hand rested on the baby seated between his legs, offering a steady support as they clumsily played with a soft, squeaky toy.

The baby babbled, gnawing on the corner of the plush thing, drool soaking it thoroughly. Rindou, ever stoic, just watched, raising an eyebrow whenever the squeak got too loud. His black stud earrings caught the light, a stark contrast to the rough Bonten insignia tattoo inked boldly across his neck.

“You’re gonna drown in your own spit,” Rindou muttered, lifting the baby gently by their underarms, pulling them up into a wobbly stand on his thighs. The child stared back at him, wide-eyed, chubby cheeks flushed. Their little fists grabbed at his shirt, seeking balance, and for a moment, there was a quiet exchange—a softness that rarely found its way into Rindou’s life.

The baby blinked, their gaze fixed on Rindou’s face with intense concentration, like they were processing something far too big for their small brain. And then, out of nowhere, they let out a small, clear sound.

“Dada.”

Rindou froze.

The word was soft, tentative, but unmistakable. His blue-gray eyes snapped to the baby’s face, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard it. His normally stoic expression cracked, a rare flicker of surprise flashing across his sharp features.

“What…?”

The baby blinked again, almost as if testing the sound, and with a little more confidence, repeated it.

“Dada.”

This time, it wasn’t a fluke.

For a solid five seconds, Rindou just stared. The usual snarky, blasé attitude was nowhere to be found—his mouth slightly open, the baby still gripping his shirt tightly, unaware they’d just done something monumental.

A scoff broke the silence, but it was soft, almost disbelieving. “… No way.”

He tried to play it cool—but there was no hiding the way his lips twitched, threatening to pull into a smile.

“You’ve got shitty taste in first words,” he murmured, lifting the baby higher until their noses nearly touched. The baby, delighted with their new word, kicked their legs happily and repeated, “Dada,” with even more enthusiasm, like they knew they’d hit gold.

Rindou exhaled sharply through his nose, something warm and unfamiliar blooming in his chest. He glanced toward the hallway, as if making sure no one else was around to witness this moment of weakness.

“Yeah, yeah,” he whispered, giving in as he brushed his nose against the baby’s cheek, the smallest, almost imperceptible grin forming on his lips. “I hear you. I’m your ‘Dada,’ huh?”

The baby squealed, a high-pitched giggle, and Rindou couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him. He was used to fights, to blood and bruises, to commanding fear—but this? This was different. And for once, he didn’t mind losing. Not to them. Not to this.

۶ৎShinichiro Sano

It was a quiet afternoon at the Sano bike shop, the scent of oil and metal lingering in the warm air. The faint sound of a wrench clinking against the concrete floor echoed through the open garage, where Shinichiro Sano sat cross-legged, lazily working on a motorcycle engine. His unkempt black hair stuck out in random directions, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the thin tendrils of smoke curling upward.

He wasn’t in any rush—never was, really. Dressed in his usual pearl-white shirt and light-washed jeans, a jacket lazily tied around his waist, he looked as effortlessly relaxed as ever. A silver chain peeked out from beneath his collar, catching the sunlight every now and then.

Nearby, his daughter sat on a thick blanket, surrounded by a mess of soft toys and teething rings. She was barely old enough to crawl properly, but that didn’t stop her from making every effort to squirm toward her father, her tiny hands grabbing at the air.

Shinichiro glanced over at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his thin lips. “You getting bored over there, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, warm, and effortlessly gentle as he set the wrench down and wiped his hands on a nearby rag.

She responded with a string of baby babble, half-formed sounds that made no sense but filled the space with life. He watched her, enchanted by the simplest things—how her little fingers curled and uncurled, how her eyes, a perfect mirror of his own dull black ones, lit up every time he spoke.

“Hold on, hold on. I’m comin’.” Shinichiro stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, rising to his feet with a lazy stretch. He scooped her up effortlessly, holding her against his chest, her small hand immediately tangling itself in the fabric of his shirt.

“You smell like motor oil,” he murmured with a chuckle, kissing the top of her head despite the mess on his hands. “Not exactly the ideal dad scent, huh?”

As he swayed gently, rocking her out of instinct more than anything, the baby stared up at him, wide-eyed and thoughtful, her chubby cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the afternoon. She blinked slowly, as though studying him, her tiny mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something.

And then, soft as a whisper, it happened.

“…Da…da…”

Shinichiro froze.

The word was faint, breathy—so delicate he almost thought he’d imagined it. His heart skipped a beat, a strange, unfamiliar warmth surging through his chest.

“…What?” His voice came out quiet, almost disbelieving, as he pulled her back slightly to look at her properly. “What’d you just say?”

The baby blinked again, her expression pure and innocent, and as if sensing his awe, she tried again, this time stronger, more confident.

“Dada.”

Shinichiro felt something inside him break wide open.

He laughed—not his usual lazy, carefree laugh, but something softer, shakier. “You serious right now?”

Her tiny hand reached up, grabbing at the silver chain around his neck, and for once, Shinichiro felt completely helpless—in the best way possible.

“You’re not supposed to say that yet…” he whispered, though the grin on his face betrayed him completely. His thumb brushed gently over her round cheek, his eyes shining with a tenderness so deep it made his chest ache.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m your ‘Dada,’” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. “Lucky me.”

The bike shop, the tools, the cigarette smoke—none of it mattered in that moment. All he knew was the weight of his daughter in his arms, her tiny voice calling out to him, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.

And for the first time in a long while, Shinichiro felt like he truly had everything he could ever want.

۶ৎKokonoi Hajime

The city skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kokonoi’s penthouse, casting long shadows over the sleek, minimalist living room. The distant hum of traffic blended with the soft jazz playing from the speaker, creating a calm, almost surreal atmosphere.

Koko sat cross-legged on the floor, dressed down in black sweatpants and a plain white shirt, his silver-white hair loose around his shoulders. He had a glass of whiskey beside him — untouched — as he watched their daughter with that same quiet intensity he reserved for high-stakes meetings… except this was different.

She was sitting in the middle of a plush play mat, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of toys, a stuffed bunny half-chewed, and a colorful book she had zero interest in. Her soft hair fell over her round cheeks, and she looked up at him with wide, thoughtful eyes — eyes that mirrored her mother’s so distinctly that Koko sometimes forgot how to breathe when she stared at him like that.

“Pretty, aren’t you?” he murmured, a faint smile touching the corner of his lips as he leaned back on his hands. “Got that from your mom… lucky kid.”

She babbled in response, smacking the bunny against the floor with impressive determination, her little brows furrowed as though she were solving some great mystery.

Koko’s gaze softened, a rare warmth breaking through his usual cool composure.

“You’re really giving that thing a hard time,” he remarked, watching her with a mix of amusement and fascination. “What did it ever do to you?”

She paused, blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, as though she was about to say something… but instead, she dropped the toy with a dramatic flair and crawled toward him, tiny hands smacking against the polished hardwood floor.

He sat up straighter, heart giving an odd little skip — not that he’d ever admit that.

“You comin’ over here?” he asked quietly, more to himself than her.

She reached him, pulling herself up with clumsy determination, her chubby fingers grabbing a fistful of his shirt as she balanced on unsteady legs. Koko’s hands hovered near her waist, ready to catch her if she wobbled too much.

And then, she looked up at him… and with a small, clear voice, said:

“Da…da.”

Koko blinked.

For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. The word was soft, delicate, but unmistakable. His throat tightened, the glass of whiskey forgotten entirely.

“What… what did you say?” he asked, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

She stared up at him with the same serious expression, as though this wasn’t a monumental moment — just another part of her day.

“Dada.”

The second time, it hit him harder.

A sharp inhale, and then — to his surprise — a soft laugh escaped him, the sound rough and disbelieving.

“You—” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to ground himself. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She, of course, said nothing. Just continued to stare at him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt like she had no intention of letting go.

“First word, huh?” Koko said, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “And it’s me…”

Something in his chest ached — something he hadn’t felt in years. He thought of how, for so long, he’d believed everything important in his life slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on. But here she was… holding onto him.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he whispered, brushing a gentle hand over her soft hair.

She leaned forward, her head resting against his chest in a way that made his heart squeeze painfully.

“I should tell your mom,” he murmured, though he made no move to get up. “She’s gonna want to hear this…”

But he didn’t. He just stayed there, holding her, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, as though he was afraid to break the spell.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, sleepily this time, as if testing the word.

Koko closed his eyes for a long moment, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, the faintest smile on his lips.

“Yeah…” he whispered. “I’m your Dada.”

And for once, there was nothing else he needed.

۶ৎKen Ryuguji

The rain tapped lightly against the windows, casting soft shadows across the small but cozy apartment. The scent of warm tea and baby powder lingered in the air, a comforting mix that made the place feel lived-in — loved.

Draken sat on the floor, back against the couch, his long legs stretched out, and their daughter nestled comfortably between them. His strong, calloused hands were gentle as he helped her balance, her tiny fingers grabbing at the hem of his patterned jacket with the determination of someone on a mission.

“Steady now, princess,” he murmured, his deep voice softer than usual, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

She had her mother’s eyes — there was no denying it. That same soft, soulful gaze that could stop Draken in his tracks, no matter how tough he tried to act. The resemblance was almost eerie, especially when she stared up at him with that thoughtful, almost knowing expression, as if she could see right through him.

“You’re gonna be a heartbreaker, you know that?” he teased, running a hand over his buzzed undercut, the dragon tattoo on his temple stark against his skin. “Just like your mom…”

His daughter, of course, was unimpressed. She was too busy trying to pull herself up, grabbing at his jacket with clumsy determination, her chubby legs wobbling as she straightened herself.

Draken arched a brow, watching her with a mix of amusement and quiet pride. “Look at you… tough little thing,” he muttered. “Didn’t get that from her.”

She babbled something incoherent, rocking back and forth on her feet, her lips forming shapes that almost sounded like words.

“Yeah?” Draken chuckled, leaning in closer, his braid falling over his shoulder. “What are you tryin’ to tell me, huh?”

She paused then, swaying slightly before gripping his jacket tighter. For a split second, Draken thought she was about to fall — his hands twitched, ready to catch her — but she steadied herself, blinking up at him with wide, serious eyes.

And then…

“Da…da.”

Draken froze.

The word was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it hit him like a punch to the gut.

“What…?”

She said it again, clearer this time, her small voice filling the room in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Dada.”

Draken stared at her, his heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt since his gang days. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say — wasn’t sure if he could say anything at all.

“You…” He swallowed hard, his voice rougher now, a little hoarse. “You just—”

Before he could finish, she took an unsteady step forward and fell right into his chest, her tiny arms wrapping around him as best as they could.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, her voice muffled against his shirt.

And that… that broke him.

Draken closed his eyes, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he held her close, his thumb brushing over her soft hair. The warmth of her small body against his made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t prepared for — a deep, protective kind of love that scared him more than any fight ever had.

“Yeah…” he whispered after a long moment, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his voice softer than it had ever been. “I’m your dad…”

He stayed like that for a while, holding her, feeling her small breaths against him. He didn’t call for her mom — not yet.

This moment was his. Just for now.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: yeah so this fic really pushed the tumblr character limit 😭 sorry it’s two parts guys but it is a full 40.6k in total! anyway, let me know what you think and enjoy the second half 😘

part two word count: 8.7k

tw: pregnancy, mentions of vomiting and gagging, mentions of nausea, dirty talk/innuendo, oral sex (f receiving, brief m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, come play, nipple play, minor depiction of labor

summary: accidentally pregnant, your relationship with william nylander grows and deepens from fuck buddies to more over the course of a year

“I can’t do it,” you tell Willy, panic clawing at your chest. “Leave the baby in there, it’s fine. I’m not ready.”

“Me either,” Willy holds your hand and helps you get into position. “But we’re going to figure it out together, right? We’ve got this. You’re the toughest woman I know, just a little longer and we’ve got Gunnar.”

“I think it’s Linnea,” you reply, crying as a contraction hits and doesn’t let go. You can’t catch your breath and Willy’s stroking your cheek and forcing you to look at him and breathe with him.

Pushing is like the weirdest out of body experience except that you can feel every second of the pain since you’d forgone the epidural like an idiot. Your entire world is narrowed down to the pain in your body and Willy’s hand in yours grounding you to the moment.

“Almost there, Ace,” he encourages you in a voice that sounds very far away even though his cheek is pressed to the side of your head.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you sob, tears and sweat mixing on your face. “It hurts, Will.”

He strokes your hair off your face and kisses the top of your head, squeezing your hand. “I know, it’s okay, you’re doing so good,” he cheers you on. “You’ve got this. One more push and we’ve got a baby.”

He pulls your leg back, holding you by the back of the thigh, and there’s a nurse and your OB between your legs, encouraging you and counting down from ten.

You shriek, bearing down in another push, adding to the noise in the room.

“Come on, one more, Ace,” Willy locks eyes with you and nods. “Lock in, baby, you’ve got this.”

“You lieeeeeed,” you wail, voice ragged as you scream. “It was one before this.”

“You can hit me later,” he smirks. “One more, come on, baby’s almost here.”

A thought grips you.

“Don’t look,” you beg urgently. “Do not look down there, oh my god.”

“I’m not,” Willy’s voice is up by your ear, one hand in yours and the other tight on your thigh. “I promise, I’m just up by your head. You’ve got this. One push, ten, nine…”

He counts down for you and it feels like your body is on fire, going to break in half from the effort and then, just like that, it’s gone and your body releases.

“Head’s out,” Dr. Knight chirps from between your knees. “One good push and we’ll have a baby!”

“Oh my god,” you cry, looking at Willy. His face is blurry through your tears, but his smile is unmistakable.

“One more, Ace,” he squeezes your hand twice and you nod, groaning through the last contraction before you feel the baby slide out of your body.

“It’s a boy!” Dr. Knight announces, holding him up. You sob, overwhelmed and full of endorphins. “Want to cut the cord, Dad?”

Willy nods and releases your leg, but he’s still holding your hand when he cuts the cord and you’re sobbing in relief. The baby’s placed on your bare chest, warm and slippery and heavier than you expected. He’s crying and you’re crying and you’ve never felt happier in your life.

“A boy, oh my god,” you sob, hands shaking as you bring them up instinctively to curl over the baby’s head and back. “A boy, Willy, he’s here!”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Ace,” he murmurs into your temple, sounding shaky. He kisses your forehead and cheek and lips, over and over again. “We have a son.”

His hand shakes too as he brings it up to cover yours, the both of you cradling the baby to your chest.

Your chin is digging into your chest so you can get a look at the baby, covered in god knows what, but so solid on your chest. A tiny hand splays over your breast and you count the five perfect little fingers. You can’t stop crying and Willy’s tucked up against your side, arm wrapped around your shoulders while he strokes at the baby’s fingers with the tip of his index finger.

“Gunnar,” you murmur. “He’s so perfect.”

“Yeah, he really is,” Willy agrees in a nasal voice that sounds like he’s trying to hold back tears. He keeps brushing his lips over your temple, the sweaty hair sticking to your skin, your eyebrow in soft little ghost kisses.

A nurse takes Gunnar and you point Willy off to follow her, not that he needed to be told twice, watching him while you deliver the placenta and get cleaned up.

A freshly swaddled baby is in Willy’s arms, looking tiny. Willy is staring down at him with wide eyes, as if he’ll disappear any second. Your heart feels like a puddle in your chest looking at them, father and son.

“Eight pounds, eight ounces,” the nurse tells you. “Twenty one inches long. He’s a big boy.”

You catch Willy’s eye when she tells you Gunnar’s weight and the both of you laugh at the coincidence.

“He’s perfect,” you repeat and Willy agrees, a sort of shell-shocked look on his face as he stares down at the baby in his arms. The baby that has his nose and your chin and a dusting of platinum blond hair on his perfect little head. The baby that you need back in your arms right now.

You make a little noise and Willy looks up at you, sees the frown on your face and laughs, handing Gunnar over. “Back to Mama, little guy,” he says softly, caressing the baby’s head when he’s safely in your arms. “Ace…”

“I know,” you wipe at the mess of tears and sweat on your face. “I can’t believe he’s here.”

“I can’t believe he’s ours,” Willy sits on the edge of your bed and kisses your temple again, lips lingering.

You keep Gunnar tucked close to your chest, tracing the slope of his nose and the soft fat of his cheeks with your index finger, completely mesmerised by him. It’s hard to imagine that twenty minutes ago he was settled inside of you and now he’s here. It’s hard to believe that nine months ago, he didn’t even exist and now you’d jump through fire for him.

Willy wipes gently at the tears streaming down your cheeks and you lean your head against his side, sore and happy.

“He’s got your ears,” you murmur, tracing the soft shell of Gunnar’s ear.

———

Baby Nylander Hype Squad

WN88: he’s here! ace did fantastic, she and baby are resting but you guys are more than welcome to come by in the morning to meet the little guy

Mom: Oh my god! A boy, we’re so proud of you both!

Camilla: Congratulations, my loves! We can’t wait to meet him 💙💙

Ella: BANKSY JUNIOR 💙💙💙

Dad: I still don’t know what a hype squad is?

Ella: OMG don’t worry, I’ll explain it at dinner

Michael: We’re very excited! Tell us when the best time to come is.

Alex: Get the kid on skates, he can join us on ice in Tampa 😂

Alex: Congrats!

Jackie: 💙💙💙

Steph: What’s his name, Willy?

Michelle: Send pictures!!

WN88: gunnar william alexander, 8lbs 8oz, 21 inches long *photo attachment*

You: You couldn’t have sent a picture where I look halfway decent? And thanks everyone 🤍

WN88: i think you look perfect, ace

———-

MapleLeafs Tweet November 28

#PlayerUpdate: William Nylander did not practice today for personal reasons and will meet the team in Tampa Bay.

reply from kurlyteuvo: omg baby time!

reply from youunravelme: ahhhhh that kid is going to be so cute!

reply from leafsguy: who cares? he’s overpaid talk to me when he produces in the playoffs

reply from captainnylander: he’s going to have dad strength this season we’re winning the cup

——-

“It would be easier to eat if you let me hold him,” Willy laughs, feeding you a spoonful of Fruity Pebbles.

You hum around the mouthful, Gunnar sleeping peacefully in your arms. After you swallow, you shrug at him, “probably, yeah. But I don’t want to put him down.”

Gunnar had gone to the nursery over night while you and Willy both got some much needed sleep, but you’d woken up at 6:45, sore and tired, but desperate to get your baby back in your arms. Willy had gotten the nurse to bring him in and he’d also run out to get you a box of Fruity Pebbles, per your request.

Now it’s just after 7:30 and you’re relaxing while you wait for your families to come by. Gunnar’s been an absolutely chill delight of a newborn so far and you can’t help but think some of that has to be attributed to Willy’s chill nature.

“C’mon, let me hold him,” Willy feeds you another spoonful of cereal and strokes Gunnar’s cheek. “I have to leave tomorrow morning and you get uninterrupted time until I’m back on Sunday.”

You’d forgotten that Willy has to get back on the road for another game and tears well up in your eyes, chest getting tight at the thought of him leaving so soon. You catch your lower lip between your teeth and sigh, “I forgot about that. You should hold Gunnar then.”

“Hey, whoa,” Willy drops the spoon back into your bowl and cups your cheek in his hand. “Don’t cry, why are you crying?”

You hiccup a sob, unable to contain it now that he’s pointed it out, “I don’t want you to leave! I want you to stay with me and Gunnar and take us home from the hospital and do the hot dad walk and get spit up on you and cuddle him.”

“Oh,” Willy laughs faintly and then coughs, trying to muffle his laughter. “Ace, baby, I’ll be home first thing Sunday morning. They probably won’t discharge you tomorrow anyway.”

“But what if they do?” You know you sound crazy, but you can’t stop yourself. “I thought we’d go home together.”

Gunnar stirs in your arms, lips smacking together and nose wrinkling. Willy rests one hand on the baby’s stomach, rubbing gently and soothing him back to sleep. He’s such a good dad already.

“I’ll ask the nurse,” he tells you. “See when she thinks they’ll discharge you, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffle, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. Willy shakes his head at you, a soft smile on his lips. “I know I’m being nuts,” you continue. “And that this isn’t what you signed up for -“

He cuts you off, “I signed up for everything that comes with having a kid with you, Ace. I can handle whatever you’re gonna throw at me and I just want to make sure you and Gunnar are safe and happy.”

“Stop being so nice,” you let out a watery laugh, “I just might fall in love with you.”

Willy’s eyes go wide and you snap your mouth shut, realizing what you just said. Your stomach lurches with anxiety, waiting for Willy to say something, but he just lets his face settle back into a neutral expression and cups your cheek gently.

“I’ll go check on that question,” he says. “Gunnar, hold down the fort.”

You cuddle Gunnar closer and finish off the bowl of cereal while Willy’s gone, feeling silly over your meltdown. You’re going to have to learn how to take care of the baby on your own anyway, what does it matter if Willy has to leave tomorrow?

A few stray tears leak out of your eyes and you wipe them away, relaxing back against your pillows. Gunnar yawns and stretches and blinks open blue eyes at you, immediately melting your heart.

“Oh hi there, big boy,” you coo. “You look just like Daddy when he wakes up from a nap too.”

He starts to fuss and you unbutton the top few buttons of your pajama top and help him get latched. It’s awkward and strange and takes a few tries, but you manage to find a good position and Gunnar starts sucking away. You cup the back of his head, watching him and getting used to the feeling of him breastfeeding.

“Found some strangers in the hall,” Willy’s voice precedes him and gives you a few seconds warning to make sure you’re not exposing nip. You look up and watch as he leads a parade of your parents into the room.

“Hi,” you beam at the four of them, waving slightly. “Want to meet your grandson?”

Your mom is at your side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and murmuring how proud she is of you, how beautiful you look, how she hasn’t been able to stop crying since Willy sent the picture of Gunnar last night.

Your dad is on your other side, cupping the back of your head the same way you cup Gunnar’s, sounding gruff and emotional when he tells you that he’s proud of you too.

Willy’s got his mom’s arms around his waist in a hug, quiet, rapid Swedish coming from them.

Willy’s dad claps him on the back and reaches out to touch your arm, “good job, kiddo. You did really good.”

“Thanks,” you say generally, overwhelmed with love. “Give me, um, one second and you guys can all pass him around.”

Your dad and Willy’s turn away to give you privacy, but your mom stays at your side and watches you with a proud smile on her face.

“He’s a beautiful little boy, honey,” she strokes your hair, twisting the ends of it in her fingers. It’s clean after Willy helped you shower last night and the repetitive movement of your mom’s hand feels good. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you shrug, propping Gunnar up to burp him like the nurse showed you and when he lets out a belch that sounds too big for his body, you laugh before saying, “who wants first dibs? Mom?”

She shakes her head, “let Camilla have him. I want to hold my baby for a bit.”

That starts the waterworks and Willy rescues Gunnar from your arms so you can fall into your mom’s embrace. She strokes your hair and murmurs nonsense in your ear, kissing the top of your head. She traces letters on your upper arm, spelling out ‘I love you’ slowly enough for you to recognize it. You didn’t realize how nice it would be to have your mom here after giving birth.

Willy passes the baby around and he eventually makes his way into your mom’s arms and by default, right next to you. You tear up watching your mom hold Gunnar and Willy’s hand is on the nape of your neck, squeezing gently.

Gunnar’s back asleep and your mom puts him down in the plastic bassinet, adjusting his swaddle with a practiced hand.

You yawn and lean back into your pillows, letting the conversation happen around you. Willy’s still at your side, rubbing his hand up and down your arm while he talks with the dads. You find your eyelids growing heavy and let them close briefly.

When you wake up, the room is empty, save for Willy, shirtless, in the armchair and Gunnar tucked against his chest. The chain around his neck glints in the low light. You stay quiet and listen to Willy have a one-sided conversation with your son.

“You and I really lucked out with your mom,” he says, one huge hand covering the baby’s back. “She’s the coolest, smartest, funniest person I’ve ever met and she’s going to be the best mom. But I’m going to be busy a lot the next couple weeks, so I need you to be the best behaved newborn in the world. Don’t keep her awake and stick to a schedule. When I’m home, you can act up. But not for mom, okay?”

Gunnar’s little squeak is muffled by Willy’s chest, but you can hear it all the same.

Willy nods, “good man, I knew I could count on you. Now, uh, nope, mine don’t do that. Let’s see if mama’s awake.”

You quickly close your eyes and pretend to wake up when Willy sits down on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges your cheek with a knuckle, “Gunnar’s trying to get milk out of my non functional nips.”

You giggle and let him settle the baby in your arms, already exposing a breast to slot into Gunnar’s mouth. “I dunno,” you tease, “you’ve got some pretty good ones. I remember you making a particularly nice noise when I bit them.”

Willy shoots you a dry look. “We’re parents now, Ace,” he informs you haughtily, “we need to class it up.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” You adjust Gunnar in your arms. “How long was I out?”

“Two hours, give or take?” Willy looks at his watch, scratching a hand through his chest hair. “Are you okay here? I need to run home and pack quickly. I’ll bring back that sushi boat.”

His hand absently rubs the back of Gunnar’s head while he eats, fine blonde hair sticking up in all directions.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “But only if you bring back the sushi boat.”

“Promise,” he laughs, getting up and pulling his shirt back on before he leaves.

True to his word, Willy brings back a sushi boat and you both pick at it while Willy holds Gunnar. You only cry a little bit when he leaves to get some sleep before flying down to Tampa in the morning.

Your mom and Willy’s sisters rotate visiting you while Willy’s gone, making sure you’re not alone.

You watch the game and cheer quietly when Willy gets an empty net goal to seal a 5-3 win. He’s interviewed after the game and you watch the clips on Twitter.

“Yeah, just felt good to get that win. You know,” he laughs, looking tired but happy, “I’m just really happy with life right now. Life is good.”

“Hear that, Gunnar?” You roll onto your side and reach into the bassinet. “You’re the reason Daddy’s happy with life right now.”

As soon as the team lands back in Toronto on Sunday morning, Willy’s back in the hospital, looking smug that he was right and you weren’t discharged while he was gone.

You get to watch him do the hot dad walk, Gunnar secure in his car seat and the ‘DAD’ hat you got him for his birthday backwards on his head.

“Ready to get home?” He asks you after making sure the car seat is secure and you’ve got your seat belt on.

“Yes, so ready,” you reply, triple checking the car seat.

It’s the longest car ride of your life, anxiety spiking every time another car on the road gets a little too close. Willy’s white knuckling the steering wheel and he has the radio turned off. Gunnar sleeps through the entire drive and you feel shaky by the time you get into your apartment.

“I hated that,” you mutter, draining a glass of ice water.

Willy settles Gunnar’s car seat on the couch and nods in agreement. “Yeah, that was terrifying. I’m not doing that again for a while,” he lifts the baby out of the car seat and hands him off to you for a feeding.

“I can’t believe they just let us leave with him,” you try to joke, but it comes out a little too serious.

“We’re really on our own here, Ace,” he looks at you with wide eyes. “No going back now.”

——

The nice thing is, you’re not really on your own. Your parents stay in town to help for two weeks, making you dinner and cleaning up your place, along with decorating for Christmas. Willy’s parents are in town too, chipping in when your parents have to go back to Michigan for a bit.

It’s nice to have the village of support, especially with Willy playing twelve games before Christmas, five of them on the road.

When he’s home, he’s by your side though, taking care of diapers and entertaining Gunnar when you need to shower or use the bathroom or just have a second to yourself.

“Can we just do Christmas morning the three of us?” You ask, feeding Gunnar on the couch. It feels like that’s all you do lately, feed and burp and change the baby, to the point where you’re living in an oversized flannel button down that’s rarely buttoned up. More often than not, you’ve just got your tits out for easy access since Gunnar’s feeding on-demand, basically every two hours. Willy hasn’t said a peep, but you know he’s been looking at your engorged chest and honestly, it’s a little bit of an ego boost at a time when you’re feeling less than your best.

He looks up from the box he’s wrapping and nods. “Sure, yeah,” he yawns. “We can just have everyone come over for dinner. My mom will cook at my place and she can bring it over here. Or we can just go over there. Whatever you want to do, Ace.”

Despite what you had agreed to, Willy’s been spending all his time in your place while Alex and his parents are at his. You’d been stupid to think that you could swap apartments while freshly postpartum, maybe when Gunnar’s older it’ll be easier, but for now, for all intents and purposes, Willy’s moved in with you.

Christmas is nice, quiet and relaxing. Gunnar’s too little to actually participate, but you get some good photos of him with the decorations and presents and he’s adorable in his little Christmas sweater. You know both sets of grandparents are going to spoil him, so you hadn’t done too much with presents. Not that you’d had that much time to shop.

For Willy, you’d gotten him a pendant for his chain with Gunnar’s fingerprint on one side and his date of birth on the other.

Willy gives you a necklace with Gunnar’s birthstones, topaz and citrine, set in a bezel. You cry a little because it’s so thoughtful and he explains that it’s a joint push present and Christmas present because he needed to wait and see what month Gunnar was born in and then it had taken the jeweler a minute to find good enough stones.

You have him clip it on your neck and when he does, Willy kisses your cheek sweetly, “Merry Christmas, Ace.”

The rest of the afternoon is full of food and family, your mom and Camilla making sure everything runs smoothly and that you and Gunnar are able to stay on schedule. It’s nice being taken care of by everyone and you were right, they all spoil Gunnar beyond reason.

——-

December melts into January and you’re finding a rhythm. Your parents head back to Michigan for good, just a phone call away. Willy’s parents are still in town, but will only come by to help if you need them so you can adjust to your new roles.

January’s easier because Willy’s only away for five games. You get to spend more time together, figuring it out.

It’s cold and snowy, but he has you bundling up with him for walks to get some fresh air.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” You worry, hovering around Willy as he settles Gunnar into the carrier strapped to his chest. Gunnar gives you a gummy smile - his latest milestone - and you melt, reaching a finger out for him to grab onto. “I don’t want him to be cold.”

“He’s okay, right little cakester?” Willy runs a hand over Gunnar’s head. The nickname is courtesy of Willy’s sponsorship with Oreo and the fact that you’ve been mainlining the snack cakes while breastfeeding. Gunnar’s up to a solid fourteen pounds and his arms and legs are deliciously chunky. You can’t get enough of him.

“Don’t let the hat fall off his head,” you remind Willy and he gives you a mock salute, making you roll your eyes.

You bundle up for the walk too, tugging a Leafs’ beanie over your forehead and lifting your puffer coat’s hood over that. Gunnar is toasty against Willy’s chest, zippered into his jacket so that you can just see his head from the side. You wiggle your fingers at him and coo, “are you all snuggled up with Daddy? Is he keeping you warm?”

Gunnar babbles and kicks his legs, making you and Willy both grin. He’s such an active baby, always kicking his legs and wiggling around and you love when he lets out an excited shriek.

You gather up Pablo and Banksy, ushering them out the door with the “w-word,” their leashes held loosely in your hand just in case.

The blast of cold January air hits your face and refreshes you, a little shiver running down your spine. Willy grabs for your hand and holds on, his other hand resting on Gunnar’s back through his jacket.

“We won’t do a long walk,” he tells you. “But it’s probably good for you and G to get outside a bit.”

“No, I definitely agree,” you murmur. “I wish he had been born in the spring because this is miserable.”

Willy chuckles a bit and you fall into easy conversation about the season. The Leafs are doing well, a string of wins and a few losses leading into the end of the month. They have their annual outdoor practice coming up, which you’ll be bringing Gunnar to for a bit, and then next month Willy’s off to Montreal and Boston for the Four Nations Tournament.

“I know it’s asking a lot,” Willy says, “but it would be really special if you brought Gunnar. I want you both there, even if he won’t remember it, there’ll be pictures to show him when he’s older.”

You watch Willy’s jacket move as Gunnar kicks around. It feels a little overwhelming to be traveling with a baby on your own so soon. But you do want Gunnar to see his dad in action.

“Do I have to decide now?” You let your arm swing a little, moving his arm too. “It’s a little scary to think about.”

“Ella and my parents are coming,” Willy says easily. “They’ll help. If you want. I just want you both there, so consider it?”

You nod. “I’ll think about it. I want to be there to support you too, you know that, right? I’m not trying to get out of it. But it’s just…” you trail off, frowning. You haven’t brought Gunnar anywhere other than his pediatrician’s for check-ups.

“I know, Ace,” Willy’s gloved fingers squeeze your mittened ones. “I just -“

Someone shouts his name, cutting him off, and you both look up, startled. A small group of three girls and two guys are walking in your direction and you know they’re going to stop Willy for a picture. You try and tug your hand from his, but he holds on tighter.

“Willy Styles!” One of the guys crows your baby daddy’s nickname. “Epic game the other day.”

“Thanks,” Willy laughs, polite as ever. Two of the girls are kneeling down to pet Pablo and Banksy, but pause and look up to ask you if it’s okay.

“Oh, um, yeah. That’s fine,” you reply quietly. It’s still weird when people stop Willy in the street or you when you’re walking the dogs.

The third girl bounces on the balls of her feet and asks, “can we get a picture? Like, would that be okay?”

Pablo and Banksy, tired of the attention, traipse back to your feet and you squat down to rub at Banksy’s ears while you wait for Willy’s response. He still hasn’t let go of your hand and you just hope Gunnar’s head and face is blocked in the photo.

“Sorry, guys,” Willy shakes his head. “No pictures right now, not while I’m with my family. But I’ll sign stuff, if you’ve got a pen?”

His hand never leaves Gunnar’s back, curled protectively even though the baby’s not exposed to the cold or to the fans. Your heart clenches, a flood of emotion blocking your throat. It’s hard not be in love with him.

The girls fumble through their bags for pens and Willy waits patiently, bouncing from foot to foot for Gunnar’s sake, so he can sign paper they find too.

The guys are still chatting away and Willy’s at ease with them, even if he stays angled to protect Gunnar.

“Thanks, guys,” Willy shakes the fans’ hands at the end of the interaction, “I appreciate you being so chill.”

Somehow, you know the interaction will end up on Twitter, but as long as Gunnar’s face stays off the internet, you’re fine with it.

“Congrats on the baby!” The girls chirp, waving as they walk away.

You reach into the carrier to adjust Gunnar’s hat, just to have something to do, a strange buzz in your brain. Gunnar’s passed out, cheek squished up against Willy’s sweater, drool coating his chin. You swipe at it with your finger and then wipe the drool on Willy’s sweater.

“What’s on your mind, Ace?” Willy asks gently, ducking his head to look at you.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing,” you reply, letting him hold your hand again and resume the walk. “I’m just glad they were respectful. But it’s not always like that, right?”

“Not always,” Willy agrees. “But we can control how much everyone knows about Gunnar, how much they see of him. I don’t plan on giving up information about him unless you’re comfortable with it.”

“I mean, people will see him at the outdoor practice,” you shrug lightly, anxiety starting to build in your chest. “And he’s the son of a Core Four member. Your personal life is very interesting to the fans.”

Willy scoffs. “And they get pretty good access to me, but you and Gunnar are off limits. We control how much information they get from us and I’ll take my cues from you, Ace. We never have to tell people about him or we can tell everyone we meet.”

“Private, not secret,” you murmur to yourself, turning the idea over in your head. It’s not so bad, if you think about it that way. Keeping Gunnar private for yourself and Willy, but still bringing him around the team so he can get to know the Leafs’ family.

——-

January fades into February.

The outdoor practice is a hit, Gunnar delighting in his twirl around the ice with Willy, even if you have to clutch the edge of the boards when they’re on the ice. You spend time with Tessa and baby Maverick, comparing stories on early motherhood.

You celebrate Steph and Baby Marner, another little boy to add to the gang. It’s nice to have friends who are in the same stage of life, going through the same changes so you can discuss and feel a little less alone.

Ella helps you bring Gunnar to Montreal and then Boston for the Four Nations, playing baggage mule for you while you navigate bringing a three month old on his first flights. It’s easier than you expected, Gunnar breastfeeding for most of the trip and sleeping when he’s not eating.

You get the third degree from Ella, her not-so-subtle hints about wanting you and Willy together making you laugh. You’re finally settled into a comfortable routine, no chance you’re going to rock that boat.

But of course, Willy has you sharing his room during the tournament, curled up around you in bed at the end of the day. Gunnar’s nestled in the space left by the c-shape of your body, kicking his legs and giving you gummy smiles and baby babbles. He’s just happy to be here and you marvel at the fact that he’s the happiest baby you’ve ever met.

You stand at the glass for warmups, holding Gunnar so he can see the ice and so Willy can see him. And it’s easy to pretend that this is how it will always be when Willy blows kisses and waves. He skates over and taps the glass, getting Gunnar bouncing in your arms.

Sweden is knocked out of the tournament early and you head back home with Willy in surprisingly good spirits.

“Just means I get to spend more time with my two favorite people before the season picks back up,” he shrugs, holding Gunnar like a football.

It’s hard, when he says things like that, to push down your feelings for him. Gunnar is your focus, making sure there’s a good environment for him, not ruining everything by admitting your feelings to Willy.

The playoff grind is tough, making sure Willy has enough time to spend with Gunnar and also rest for the games. He’s beyond involved, taking the baby and the dogs for long walks when he gets home or has a day off, letting you have time to rest too. Now that Gunnar is a little older and you have more practice taking care of him on your own, you’re more comfortable doing the apartment switch, staying at Willy’s when he’s in town and decamping back to your place when he’s on the road.

And then all of a sudden, Gunnar is four months old and the Leafs are clinching their spot in the playoffs once again. The most life-changing year of your life, gone in what feels like a blink of an eye.

——-

“Hello, my smiley, giggly boy,” you tickle Gunnar’s tummy, getting another burst of high pitched giggles in return. Your smile is so wide it hurts your face. “Are you mommy’s little cakester? I could eat you up!”

You pretend to bite his tummy, making Cookie Monster noises.

Gunnar shrieks his giggles, kicking and wiggling on the play mat, hands grasping in little fists. He’s Willy’s twin, all smiley blue eyes and platinum hair. You can’t get enough of him and all dressed up in his Maple Leafs’ onesie, he’s ready to go be a mascot for the team.

Pablo and Banksy wander over, sniffing at Gunnar’s head, but steering clear of his hands. They’ve learned the hard way that the baby has an iron grip on fur and hair.

He rolls over, trying to grasp for the dogs and they lie down, submitting to their fate.

“Good boys,” you pet their heads, keeping Gunnar’s hands away from them. “Are you playing with your puppies? You have to be nice to them.”

Gunnar shrieks and wriggles, the dogs sighing. You laugh and scoop Gunnar up into your arms. He fights you briefly before snuggling close, pressing his face into your chest and rooting around.

“You cannot be hungry,” you mutter, adjusting him in your arms so you can pull out your breast. Gunnar latches on eagerly and starts sucking like a man starved. “You just ate!”

“My growing boy needs his daily hit of Oreo Cakester milk,” Willy teases, strolling out of his bedroom while pulling a shirt on over his head. You watch with a pout as his toned, hairy chest disappears under the fabric.

“I’ll have you know,” you lean back against the front of the couch, shifting your ass on the carpet. Pablo and Banksy drape themselves over your shins and you’re immediately warmed by their bodies. “There hasn’t been a single box of Cakesters in this apartment for weeks! What kind of shitty spokesman are you?”

Willy cackles, dropping onto the couch behind you and resting his chin on your head so he can reach around and rub the back of Gunnar’s head. The baby grumbles against your breast, stray drops of milk rolling over your skin.

“Ace, don’t even try and pretend like all the boxes of snacks aren’t at your place,” he kisses the crown of your head. “Or that I wouldn’t immediately run out and buy more if you asked.”

You stay quiet because he’s right and you can’t argue it. He takes your silence for the admission that it is and laughs into your hair.

It’s quiet for a bit while you both watch Gunnar eat, Willy’s arm draped over your shoulder so Gunnar can wrap his hand around his index finger. You lean your head back against the couch cushions, enjoying being surrounded by all of your favorite boys.

“Hey,” Willy breaks the comfortable silence, “when he’s done, pack up, I have a surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows lift and you cock your head to look at him, “oh yeah? A surprise? Am I going to like it?”

“I hope so,” he snorts a laugh, planting a quick kiss on your upturned lips. Your heart skips a beat, brain buzzing. It’s so normal, he does it so casually.

You tickle Gunnar’s stomach lightly, “hear that, G, Daddy has a surprise for us.”

Willy lets out a little noise behind you, half-groan, half-strangled choke. You tip your head back again to look at him.

“You okay?”

He nods and rubs Gunnar’s fingers with his thumb. “Yeah, all good,” he assures you. You frown at him, he’s been weird for the last few days, but you chalk it up to the impending playoffs and the heightened pressure that comes with the first round match up against the Senators. It should be easy on paper, but anything can happen in the dance.

Gunnar finishes up and you pass him off to Willy for a burp so you can change out of your milk-stained lounging clothes into something a little more presentable.

“Do I have to be fancy?” You ask, poking your head out of the bedroom.

“Nah,” Willy shakes his head, playing peek-a-boo with Gunnar after he’s burped. “Casual is good.”

With that in mind, you pull on a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater, comfortable but chic and making you feel like you’re pulled together and not just a mom. A pair of Nikes and some jewelry, including your necklace with Gunnar’s birthstones, and you’re good to go.

“Hey, look,” Willy bounces Gunnar in his arms, holding him facing out, “it’s your hot mama.”

Gunnar squeals and kicks excitedly and you laugh, waving Willy off. “Stop that, I’m barely presentable,” you take Gunnar into your arms and settle him against your shoulder, kissing his chubby cheek a dozen times. “Car or TTC?”

“Car,” he replies, scooping up the ever-present diaper bag and holding open the door for you. He nudges Pablo back into the apartment with his foot, shaking his head at the dog. “You can go out later, pal. This trip is just for the humans.”

“Hmm, okay,” you pretend to think, “dog unfriendly location for the surprise.”

Willy gives you a non-committal noise and rests his hand on your lower back as you make your way to the car.

“Where do you think Daddy’s taking us, Gunnar?” You murmur to the baby, dancing the Maileg dinosaur plush Camilla had recently bought for him in front of his face. “Somewhere you can’t bring your doggies?”

Gunnar squeals and grabs for the plush toy, chewing on one of the ears while you hold it for him. He keeps the toy in his car seat, happily drooling all over it while Willy pulls out of his parking spot and drives off.

“Seriously, no hints?” You ask, turning slightly in your seat so you can look at Willy.

“No hints,” he has a sly smile playing on his lips, “but you’re free to guess.”

You think about it, playing absently with Willy’s fingers while they rest on your knee. His fingers flex against your leg and you trace the veins on the back of his hand. Your mind wanders, imagining all the places his fingers have touched on your body, your libido flaring to life again the last few weeks.

“Ace?” He chuckles your nickname and a flurry of butterflies take off in your stomach.

“Sorry,” you murmur, “thinking. Um, is it a museum?”

“Nope,” Willy flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours.

“Hot air balloon ride?” You smirk.

“Definitely not,” Willy pretends to shiver in fear. “I don’t think you’ll guess it.”

You tilt your head in concession, reaching back with your free hand to catch the plush as Gunnar flings it out of his car seat.

“Good reflexes there, Ace,” Willy’s eyebrow lifts, impressed.

You giggle. “Who has better reflexes, a mom trying to keep her kid from crying or a hockey goalie?”

You’re in the car for less than twenty minutes and Willy finally pulls over in a suburban neighborhood, parking in front of a gorgeous house. You look over at Willy, confused, and he’s got an uncharacteristic look on his face. You study his features for a moment and realize he’s nervous.

“Willy…” You draw out his name, heart hammering in your chest. “What- who-?”

“Come take a look with me,” he says, eyes twinkling. He climbs out of the car and gets Gunnar out of his car seat and you’re playing catch-up, because your mind is racing. This can’t be what your heart is hoping it is. That would be insane.

“Willy,” you repeat his name, nearly stumbling out of the car. He catches your elbow with one hand, Gunnar happily nestled in the other. “Who does this house belong to?”

“Me,” he says simply, stopped in the middle of the walkway up to the house. “You. Us, if you want it.”

You shake your head, “I don’t understand.”

Willy holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers at you until you take it. “Happy anniversary, Ace,” he says, changing the subject completely.

“What?” You feel like you can’t catch up to what’s happening. All you know is that holding Willy’s hand is keeping you grounded.

He pulls you up to the front door and lets go of you briefly to unlock and open the door, pushing it open to reveal gorgeous hardwood and a light filled entryway.

“You told me you were pregnant with the cakester one year ago,” Willy says, juggling Gunnar in his arms and making the empty house echo with his baby giggles. “Best year of my life.”

“Mine too,” you reply faintly. “I can’t believe you remember the day I told you.”

“Changed my life, of course I remember,” Willy chuckles. “I thought we should celebrate the anniversary.”

“So you bought a house?” You ask, taking Gunnar when he reaches for you. You tuck him under your chin and inhale his baby scent. “You bought a house.”

“I bought a house,” Willy repeats, pushing the door shut behind you and smiling. “I want more best years of my life with you, Ace. I want Gunnar to learn how to crawl and walk in a space we all live in together. I want to have more kids running around, filling this big ass house I bought for us.”

Your face is wet with tears and Gunnar is squeaking against your neck from the way you’re clutching him to your chest. You loosen your grip on him and wipe at your face, “Willy, what are you saying?”

He’s in your space with two strides, cupping your cheeks with his hands, blue eyes searching yours. A slow, serious smile curves his lips, “I love you. Have loved you for a while now, Ace. I couldn’t hold it in any more.”

You’re fully crying now, hiccuping and wiping at your face in the least sexy way possible. You manage to calm down, Willy’s thumbs stroking your cheekbones and Gunnar’s sharp little nails scratching at your neck.

“I love you, too,” you reply finally, your heart pounding and your head spinning. “I thought I’d be okay with co-parenting, but oh my god, it was so hard.”

Willy grins, closing the gap and kissing you, his tongue sliding over your lower lip and you melt, grinning against his lips. A soft sigh slips out, swallowed up by Willy’s mouth and his fingers slide to cup the back of your head, tangling in your hair and deepening the kiss. You lean into him, only stopping when Gunnar shrieks, disgruntled about being squished.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” you laugh, breathless, cupping Gunnar’s head. He gives you the dirtiest look a four-month-old can manage and you burst out into laughter. “I don’t think he loves Mommy and Daddy kissing.”

“Yeah?” Willy kisses the back of Gunnar’s head and laughs. “Joke’s on him, he’s not here if Mommy and Daddy didn’t kiss.”

He plants a smacking kiss on Gunnar’s cheek to get the baby to laugh and you didn’t think it was possible to be even more in love with him, but somehow, every time you see their faces next to each other your heart expands.

“Willy,” you sigh his name, reaching for his hand, “I can’t believe you bought a house. I can’t believe you’re in love with me.”

“You’re so easy to love, Ace,” he shrugs, like it’s nothing, when it’s everything. “I was halfway there this time last year.”

And with that bombshell for you to process, he continues, “want to see the rest of the place? Master bathroom has a tub the size of a freaking swimming pool.”

You nod faintly, still wrapping your mind around the fact that Willy’s been hiding feelings for you all year, and follow him on a tour. He points out different features, telling Gunnar that his play mat will look great in a particularly sunlit corner of the room.

As Willy leads you around, you can picture it, full of your furniture and your friends and family, holidays and laughter and parties. Kids running rampant, chasing Pablo and Banksy. Cooking in the gorgeous kitchen and Gunnar telling siblings that Santa will be coming down the fireplace.

There are more bedrooms than you think you could possibly need, a basement that’s ready to be filled with toys and a home gym. The promised bathtub will easily fit you and Willy, something you can imagine all too well, your back slotted against his chest, bubbles and warm water and candles.

“Best part,” the man in question attracts your attention from the middle of the master suite, “is the walk-in closet big enough for both our clothes.”

You tease him, “are you sure there’s room for my stuff? You’ve got a few stuffed closets and drawers so I don’t know…”

“Go take a look for yourself,” Willy rolls his eyes good-naturedly, plucking Gunnar from your arms as you pass. He makes a goofy face at the baby and is rewarded with a flailing arm to the face. He chuckles and kisses the baby’s palm while you pull open the door for the walk-in.

It’s huge, that’s the first thing you notice, with a whole island in the center of the room.

The second thing you notice is the jacket hanging on one of the bars. Its familiar colors glow like a beacon in the all white closet and you step toward it, looking back at Willy. He’s grinning at you, Gunnar seated on top of the island, pinching and grabbing at Willy’s arms where they’re settled around the baby’s tummy, keeping him propped up.

“Is that…mine?” You breathe, flicking your gaze back to the WAG playoff jacket, over the letters and numbers spelling out ‘Nylander’ and ‘88.’

“I want everyone to know you’re mine, sötnos,” Willy replies. There’s that unfamiliar Swedish word again.

You point it out. “What does that mean? You’ve called me that before, a few times,” you brush your fingers over the jacket sleeve, heart fluttering at the thought of wearing it to the playoff games.

The tips of Willy’s ears go pink and it’s so beyond endearing. “Sweetheart, in Swedish,” he replies, tickling Gunnar’s belly lightly. “It slipped out a couple of times and I was just really glad you didn’t ask me what it meant.”

“But you’ve called me baby to my face,” you take the few steps to his side, leaning your hip against the counter. “Why’s that different?”

“Just is,” Willy lifts one shoulder. “I can’t explain it, but it means more to me, it’s more serious to me when I use a Swedish term of endearment.”

“Oh,” you bite at your lip. “You were serious about me last summer?”

“Before I knew about this guy,” Willy kisses the top of Gunnar’s head again, his love language constantly on display, “I was going to ask you, well I was gonna ask you out, to be my girlfriend instead of just our hook up situation. But then you ghosted me.”

You flush and give him a sheepish smile.

“And then I wasn’t gonna say shit after that because you would’ve just taken it as me only wanting to be with you because of the baby,” he continues, hitting the nail on the head of how you would’ve reacted last spring.

“So you waited?” You ask quietly, still overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in the last few hours.

“So I waited,” he laughs. “And then I couldn’t wait for another second.”

“I’m really glad you couldn’t wait,” you step into his side, tucking yourself under his arm and burying your face against his chest. He smells like home.

Willy holds you close, Gunnar babbling away on the counter. You let a few overwhelmed tears leak out and then pull back to look at him, “we have so much to talk about.”

“Good thing you’re my favorite person to talk to.”

———

MapleLeafs Tweet April 20

Cheering on the Buds in Game One! 🤍💙

*Video Attachment*

reply from leafsbaee: omg all the babies! is that tessa and maverick?

reply from thisishowieroll: wait wait omg omg willy hard launch? do you guys see the 88 jacket??

reply from leafsguysince67: no one gives a shit about the puck bunnies, show us the goals

reply from youunravelme: SCREAMING ofc the leafs would expose willy’s personal life

reply from rachelgreenewannabee: i love seeing all the leafs babies cheering on their dads! hopefully this will motivate them to win!

reply from nilliamwylander: that’s DEFINITELY an 88 jacket omg i’m so happy for them!

reply from willystylesgirl: god that should be meeee 😭

reply from leafswags: not gonna doxx her but i followed her ig before she made it private 💁🏼‍♀️

——

“Love the accidental hard launch,” you comment wryly, sprawled on Willy’s bed with Gunnar attached to your nipple.

Willy groans through the screen of your phone, FaceTiming from the hotel since the team had made the decision to be in a hotel during the playoffs to avoid distraction. “It’s a goddamn crime that as soon as we make it official, I’m locked away in the hotel and you’re sharing my bed with three other guys,” he grumbles.

You angle the screen so he can see the dogs tucked against your side. “Looks like hairy and,” you angle the screen back at Gunnar, sucking away, “obsessed with my boobs is my type.”

“God,” Willy groans again, “when I get home, I’m making up for lost time.”

“I can’t wait,” you beam at him, fumbling the phone when Gunnar unlatches and starts to cry, startled when he gets a hit of breast milk to the face. “Oh my god,” you laugh, wiping his face off with the bottom of your shirt and disrupting the dogs in the process. “You’re a mess, Gunnar. Ow, don’t scratch, hang on and I’ll put you back on the boob.”

Willy’s laughter is muffled from where your phone is lost in the sheets, his voice coming a moment later, “if I make a fuss, will you put me on the boob too?”

“I have other plans for that smart mouth of yours,” you tease in the direction of your phone, patting Gunnar on the butt while he settles again.

“Oh yeah, I want you to tell me about them in detail, don’t leave anything out,” Willy’s face is dancing with glee when you finally dig your phone out of the sheets.

You bend your knees and prop your phone up against them, cocking your head at Willy. A little hum leaves your throat and, thinking about how much your left has changed again in just the last few days, you start, “well, first of all…”

[vamptizm]

PRETTY LIKE A PRINCESS — p. bueckers

pairing : paige bueckers x fem!reader

synopsis : you’re having a bad day and paige asks to do your makeup for you

warnings : none

word count : 600 (very short sorry)

note : are u guys okay with the small writing size or should i change it to the regular one so that everyone can read it easily?

“Let me do your makeup.” You heard from her familiar voice from where u sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the large mirror that you had been too lazy to hang up yet.

You didn’t have to be anywhere. Quite the opposite. It was a stay at home day but you couldn’t help but want to do something nice for yourself. Doing your makeup wasn’t something solely reserved for outings, it was a form of expression and art to you— something that never failed to cheer you up when having a bad day. And that’s exactly what today was. A bad day.

It had started with you not getting enough sleep on your only day off of the week, while Paige peaceful slept beside you like a baby, the soft snores and her even breathing pattern almost taunting you as you rolled over for the umpteenth time.

Then it continued with your comfort character dying in—according to you— the most unnecessary way possible. It didn’t take much for your mood to sink, the slightest inconvenience was usually enough.

“You wanna do my makeup?” You repeated with a raised brow, almost as if unsure whether you had heard her right or not.

“Well, that’s what I just said, isn’t it?” The blonde grinned from her spot, back leaned against your bed frame and her arms behind her head, unintentionally flexing those arm muscles that pushed you closer to the edge of insanity daily.

You could perfectly see her from the reflection in the mirror, but still you craned your neck to shoot her a look. “Don’t get smart with me, Goldilocks. I’m not the one today.”

That had managed to emit a full chuckle from your girlfriend, arms falling back to her sides as she straightened up. “C’mon, baby, please. You don’t trust me?”

“Now you’re just making me sound bad.” You rolled your eyes with sigh, though not truly annoyed. If anything, the thought of it made you feel somewhat giddy. But you wouldn’t admit that. “Okay… fine.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting on the bed, cross-legged once again as you faced Paige. She started out by finishing the base that you had started, but before you knew it, you already felt her hands snaking around your hips, swiftly pulling you into her lap.

“Much better, baby.” She mumbled, a faint smirk on her face as she adjusted you on top of her.

All you could do was look down at the girl, silently watching as her warm hands left and found your face repeatedly. occasionally cradling it for longer than needed, gently tilting it to the side as if you’d break any moment. All that and more, had you fighting for dear life to bite back a smile.

“All done, baby.” Paige spoke again, finally breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you, her eyes gleaming in adoration and awe. Her hands instinctively found their way to your waist, holding you almost as if to steady you. “Pretty like a princess.”

Your heart warmed at her words, a rosy hue creeping onto your cheeks and you couldn’t help but eventually crack a smile at the girl. The affect she had on you, was anything short of healing and comforting. You tilted your head forward slightly, hands snaking up to delicately cup her face before you placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips as she looked up at you.

A bright smile formed on her face, lighting her entire face up and you could’ve sworn that right then and there, you fell in love with Paige all over again, as if it had been the first time.

[suhsweet]

for halloween ⟡ kmg

wc: 3097 | pair: bf!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: smut, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: horror movie mentions, brief mention of gore (in relation to horror movie), living room sex, netflix & chill, size kink, fingering, reader has medium to long hair

summary: “I want to see if we can fuck each others’ brains out, so good to the point that we forget that there’s a scary movie playing right in front of us.”

authors note: sorry, i’ve been away for forever. with halloween coming up, i rushed this to get it out in time. it's not the best, but please enjoy <3

“Kim Mingyu, we are not spending our Saturday night watching a horror movie out of all things.”

“Sure we are, for Halloween.”

You smack a palm against your forehead, watching your stupid boyfriend flick through stupid Netflix on the stupid TV to search for a stupid horror movie. The options flick past, each movie poster looking more creepy and gruesome than the last.

“You forgot the biggest issue here. We both hate horror movies. We don’t like horror.”

“I know, but I think I might come to love it after tonight,” Mingyu smirks to himself and he waves you over towards him.

“Why do you think that?” Your eyes narrow, watching your soon-to-be-dumped boyfriend choose a film that you didn’t bother to learn the name of. As the screen goes black, the movie poster remains in your mind. All you remember are the blood splatters on the main character’s face, and the shadowy figure behind them.

The image brings about a chill down your spine, causing you to spin around and start heading for your shared bedroom. “Nope. Actually, don’t worry. Enjoy your movie! I’m just gonna hide here for the next hour and forty five minutes...”

“Baby no!” Mingyu laughs and you hear him follow you.

The heavy slap of his house slippers rapidly follow you as you speed away, a squeal threatening to escape your throat. Nevertheless, you're effortlessly scooped up into his arms bridal style.

Maybe if you close your eyes and go limp like a dead fish he’ll change his mind… You give up on fighting your boyfriend's strong hold, allowing your head to flop backward and your arms to your sides.

Entering the living room once more, Mingyu's laughter echoes throughout the apartment. Still holding you in his arms, he falls onto the plush sofa causing the both of you to let out a simultaneous ‘oomph’.

He keeps you sideways on his lap, one arm braced around your waist. He fusses over you, brushing your hair out of your face as he acts oblivious to your squirming.

You're trying your best to wriggle your way out of this cage of yummy tanned skin and muscle before he presses play on the movie. “Let me goooooo!”

“No!” Mingyu grunts, and if you thought his hold was tight enough, he pulls you in even tighter.

After three minutes of Mingyu chuckling at your poor attempts of escape, you eventually give up. It's times like these that you remember that he goes to the gym everyday, and never fails to meet his target protein intake. With him sitting down, you also forget he looms over you like a skyscraper. Fighting him is impossible.

You pout, crossing your arms with a soft, "Hmmph."

Mingyu gives a satisfied whoop as he settles you in his arms. Your attempts of appearing annoyed with him immediately dissolves as the ominous music grows louder.

Suddenly, the lamp beside your sofa switches off. Apart from the TV itself, it was the main source of light in the otherwise dark room. Your head whips over to see Mingyu in the process of retracting his hand from the switch, a devilish grin on his face.

“Where is my boyfriend!?” You practically wail. “My Mingyu wouldn’t even look at the horror section on Netflix!”

Mingyu just chuckles to himself. You bury your face in his chest, and wrap your arms around his neck. The beginnings of the jump-scares and screaming starts, and you feel the thrum of your pulse quicken.

Mingyu coos at you and begins to rub his hand across your back rhythmically. His other hand cradles your head to him. His lips softly press kisses into your hair, slowly trailing down to your temple, cheek, jaw, and then your neck. The kisses gradually go from sweet and brief, to slow and burning. You can hear his lips coming into contact with your skin, and the soft suction of his mouth.

“Mingyu…” You clench the fabric of his hoodie in your fist.

“I had a thought,” he says, completely ignoring you.

“Something you should stop doing after this,” you grumble. Being scared and horny is a weird and unfamiliar sensation.

Mingyu chuckles softly. The light touch of the back of his pointer finger tickles your cheek. You notice the way his eyes become half-lidded, hypnotized. “I want to see if we can fuck each others’ brains out, so good to the point that we forget that there’s a scary movie playing right in front of us..”

A shocked laugh bubbles up inside of you. It takes you a second to process the unexpected turn of events. “For Halloween?”

“Yup,” the side of his mouth quirks up slightly as your eyes meets his.

“You better make me scream louder than her,” you point your finger to the TV screen where all sorts of terror is occurring to the main character.

Mingyu kisses up and down your jaw once more, his fingers gripping your sides as if wondering whether to rip off your clothes or take them off intact. “I’ll try my best, baby.”

Suddenly upright and straddling Mingyu’s lap, your fingers snake through your lover’s hair. Through your lashes, you delight in the way he completely succumbs himself to your touch. Like he's happy to take anything that you'll give him, his head is tilted backwards and his eyes are shut.

Mingyu is chasing your lips when you pull back from the kiss, refusing to have your faces more than an inch away from the other. You’re about to tease his dopey expression when the back of your head is held in place by his hand, and his lips are back on yours. Your teeth clash briefly before you find your rhythm, his tongue teasing your own. And all while this is happening, he’s humping up into you.

“How am I already pussy drunk and I haven’t even taken your clothes off?” Mingyu whispers into your ear, nipping the lobe before kissing your neck. He’s licking stripes, making marks, and worshipping the skin where your jaw and neck meet. The sensation has your toes curling and your eyes screwing shut.

“Min…gyu,” you sigh out. Your hands steady themselves on his firm shoulders and you begin to grind against his heavy bulge. He watches in amazement, lazily palming your breast and breathing heavily.

You’ve always loved the sounds that Mingyu makes when you fuck. His raspy voice was already attractive, but in bed? When it’s heavy with lust and need for only you? It’s fucking heavenly.

“So, so pretty,” Mingyu sighs, eyes rolling when your hips move a certain way. You pause to reach under the waistband of his black sweats, easily finding his arousal.

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your bottom lip. You immediately catch it in your mouth and start sucking it like you would a lollypop. Your tongue in particular starts drawing patterns on the pad of this thumb. Mingyu’s gaze seems to grow darker as he watches you.

Immediately he retracts his hand, and starts stripping you of your shirt. You help take off the last of it off your body while Mingyu eagerly latches his mouth onto your chest, a hand greedily grabbing and squeezing the one that doesn’t have the attentions of his tongue.

You’re the one holding his head close this time. You watch Mingyu with his mouth on your tits, licking and sucking as if you’re his life source. He looks completely drunk on you, focused on worshipping your body. Your sounds encourage him to reach down into your pants, nudging away your panties to find your slick folds.

His fingers outline the folds of your pussy, then focus on your clit. You hum with approval as he starts drawing circles on the little nub. You feel him go back to tasting your tits, switching between kissing your neck and whispering dirty things into your ear.

“Your fingers… Fuck,” you pant. “I’m gonna-”

“I know baby,” Mingyu takes in your expressions with a satisfied smirk. His fingers speed up, pressing firmly. He pulls your head down to kiss you, wanting to feel you moan against his lips as you cum.

And you do; with your lips pressed to Mingyu’s, holding onto his shoulders as you buck against his fingers. His gaze burns into you, and it's so intense that if you weren’t in the middle of an orgasm, you would’ve blushed furiously.

As you come down from your high, Mingyu's there to hold you steady. You lazily kiss him, telling him thanks with your tongue and soft moans. His fingers dive into your hair, making your pretty tresses snake around his fingers. He plays with the ends of the strands just as you pull away and start to get on your knees.

"What're you doing?" He whines, hands gripping your arms firmly.

You frown. "Returning the favor."

"No, no, no," he rushes out. You're pulled back up on your feet when Mingyu unceremoniously yanks your pants down and pulls you back onto his lap. "I need you now."

You giggle at his desperation, and allow him to manhandle you. He strips himself of his shirt while you line his cock up to your pussy. You’re so close to having him stretch you out that your toes curl from anticipation.

However, after many lessons learnt you remembered to prep yourself at the last second. Effortlessly, you lean down to spit onto Mingyu’s cock, rubbing it all over the tip until it glistens.

Mingyu groans. “It’s so hot when you do that.”

You wink at him. His grip on your waist keep you steady as you slowly lower yourself. On instinct your eyes flicker to his to watch the minor changes in his expression as he feels your body take him. The softening of his eyes, the soft flare of his noise and the plush of his lips caught between his teeth.

And although the two of you have had sex enough times to know the other’s body like their own, the feeling of you bottoming out on his cock never gets old. Feeling so full, and so stretched out, nothing could feel as good as Mingyu’s heavy cock.

His eyes seem to dart across every plane on your face, wanting to take in your expressions too. You tenderly kiss him on the mouth and slowly start to move.

“Fuck…” Mingyu breathes out, his eyes fluttering closed.

As you start to work your body on his dick, Mingyu’s arms circle around your body. His trunk-like arms keep you close to him as he presses his head into your shoulder, breathing heavily and taking in your scent.

It’s so intimate, and perfect until you hear the movie and remember that it's still playing. Your attention unintentionally flickers over to the TV just in time to witness a jump scare. The sudden close up of the monster's morbid features, combined with the loud music has you squeezing Mingyu tighter, and a minor squeak leaves you as you jump in fright.

Mingyu’s perks up, alert. You briefly witness the protective side of him come out. His misplaced concern has you feeling sorry, and a small laugh escapes you.

His expression softens when he looks back at you and sees you smiling. He doesn't say anything, but his face asks you about what happened.

"I saw a jump scare," you admit, noticing your movements have slowed.

Mingyu shakes his head in mock disappointment. "Well that won't do. My theory would be proven wrong..." His warm, large hands trail upwards from your hips to your sides. His warm palms smooth over your upper back, creeping up past your shoulder blades before stopping at the curve of each of your shoulders.

You gaze up at him just as he pulls your body down onto him by your shoulders. The sudden intrusion doesn't hurt, but it makes you gasp. Suddenly feeling full brings an unfamiliar pleasure, and judging by your lover's face, he definitely loves it.

Mingyu's heavy lidded gaze never strays from your face, but he breaths heavily as he fucks up into you. His grip never weakens, even while your chanting his name, even while your legs squeeze together in an effort to halt his movements as you come. He manages to continue to fuck you regardless.

That has you forgetting about the movie in an instant.

"Holy... Fuck," you groan in between heavy breaths.

"What do you think of the movie so far?" Mingyu teases as he lifts you off of him and onto the sofa, on your back. As he covers your body with his own, you feel him tease your breasts. Each nipple is pinched, and the other even gets a little nip.

"Mmm," you gather your hair out from under you in an effort to get comfortable. You reach between your legs to reach for his cock. "What movie?"

Mingyu laughs as he slowly kisses up your chest and onto your lips. Your open mouthed kisses are interrupted by the sensation of him filling you up, and the two of you groan into each other's mouths.

"Fuck, angel," Mingyu's rasping into your mouth. He lays his right forearm down next to your head, while his other arm is next to your waist holding himself up. They both work to keep his weight from crushing you, but allows him to still feel every inch of your skin touching his own. "You don't understand how much I fucking need you."

Feeling caged in like this has you feeling so safe that you start to go delirious. Everywhere you look is Mingyu. If you look up, you'll find him watching you with your name escaping his lips like it was a prayer. If you look between your legs, you can see the silhouette of his heavy cock thrusting into you, making you feel so full. If you look to either side of you, you'd see his muscles working to keep himself up.

"So good," you gasp. He seems to agree from the way that his head dips down to kiss you. Your bottom lip gets stuck in-between his teeth as he sucks at it hungrily.

Unlike you, Mingyu isn’t caged in. He has the freedom to look anywhere but down, to avoid looking at your pretty face and increase the chances of him coming early. Yet, like magnets, his eyes can’t stray far from your pretty lips or flushed cheeks. The little sweat beads that decorate your face are his doing, just like the fucking delectable view of your breasts bouncing from his thrusts.

The possessive side of him revels in the fact that only he can see you like this. He likes that it’s because of him that you’re feeling this pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck, tugging his head back down. Your lips meet in another round of hungry kisses. The two of you are as close of you can get, sharing the same breath, with your foreheads pressed together. Your skin is slick with sweat– his or yours, you're not sure. Mingyu looks close, and to catch up, you bring your fingers to your clit.

"Good girl," he praises. "Make sure you come with me. Come on this cock, baby."

You can't even give him a proper reply. All you can do is nod as you watch him work you both to the edge.

Without warning, you feel yourself come first and your words come out slurred. "'Gyu, 'm cummin'."

Your words act as the catalyst and Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut. He buries his head into your neck, allowing only you to hear his deep moans.

The last of your orgasms drain from the two of you, and you laugh softly up at your lover. He grins down at you, leaning in to kiss you when the final jump-scare from the movie makes itself known.

A loud screech from the movie’s demon, combined with the sharp music has you both jumping in fright. Mingyu collapse onto you, hugging your body and burying his face into your neck. You instinctively stretch your arms around his shoulders as if that would protect him from any bad guys, and you shut your eyes from seeing any more of the film.

The music changes after a few seconds, making you peek an eye open. The credits are creeping up the screen, and you let out a loud sigh as you go limp.

Mingyu’s head perks up to look at you, and then the TV. “Hey! We did it.”

You laugh, remembering the stupid theory your boyfriend came up with. Your hand rises in a hi-five to which Mingyu slaps enthusiastically.

Mingyu takes in your dopey, fucked-out expression with a toothy grin of his own. You feel him press a smattering of kisses all over your face, and then the pressure of his body rolling away from you to retrieve the TV remote. Even if it's just to turn the TV off, you whine in protest at the idea of having to separate from him so soon. You rise and attach yourself to his back like a koala would a tree.

Mingyu stands, fixing his arms into the crooks of your knees to piggyback you. He walks to your bedroom with a pep in his step. He mumbles to himself, “I won’t be able to sleep all night after that movie.”

His innocuous tone makes you laugh. “Because you were definitely focused on the movie and nothing else.”

“Yeah, yeah. It had demons and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, I remember seeing that too,” you laugh. "Did you see the thing that happened to that person at that place?"

"Oh yeah, totally," Mingyu scoffs. "I know exactly what you're talking about. Wasn't scared of that at all."

He deposits you at the foot of your bed and starts to crawl up on top of you again, his body acting as a cage once more.

The predatorial gleam in his eyes elicits a shiver from you.

“You know, I normally find it hard to fall asleep after watching scary movies too,” you say as Mingyu leans down to kiss your jaw.

Mingyu hums in interest. “Glad to hear it isn’t just me. But I know a couple things we could do to help us sleep.”

You burst out laughing at the cheesiness of it all. Mingyu looks up at you, giving you another of his precious toothy grins. You smile, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging gently. “Alright, alright, let’s get into round two already.”

[drabblesandsnippets]

The Prize

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 11

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “You look good like this.”| [Kneeling | Tied Down | Ruined] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (9.7k) Bucky and his girlfriend try out their new sex swing, purchased after The Bet. This is a standalone fic and is mostly just pure smut, y’all.

A/N: This is my first fic after my hiatus, and it kind of got away from me 😂 Huge shoutout and thanks to @thinking1bee - without her support and encouraging comments, I'm not sure I would have finished this! Any and all mistakes are my own.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Pet names (doll, sweetheart, baby). Brief mention of insecurities. Enthusiastic consent. Praise. Dirty talk. Slight verbal degradation. Masturbation (m). Multiple orgasms (both). Oral (both receiving). Rimming (f). Sex toys (including anal). Cum as lube. Fingering (almost fisting?). Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV. Aftercare.

“Tell me again,” Bucky says, cradling his girlfriend’s face, searching for any hint of hesitation or reluctance. They’re standing in their bedroom, stripped down to their underwear, the soft glow of the lamp providing more than enough light for them to see each other, her bright eyes staring up at him.

The thought of being so vulnerable and exposed definitely gave her pause at first, but Bucky’s been building anticipation, counting down the days since she ‘lost’ the bet, whispering all the dirty things he’s going to do to her. 

By the time the sex swing arrived a couple of days ago, her excitement matched his, especially after a quick test of it yesterday, with her clothes on - all of which he promptly ripped off as soon as he helped her down, taking her hard and fast at the edge of the bed.

“I want this,” she tells him with an excited nod of her head, her slightly trembling hands resting against his chest, drawing comfort from the strong beat of his heart. Despite her lingering nerves from years of insecurities, her voice is steady, repeating the same promises she’s been making - she’s not doing this just because he wants her to, and she knows, without a doubt, she can stop at any moment and he won’t be disappointed.

That’s the most important part of all of this to Bucky - her enthusiastic consent. Without it, he wouldn’t have the courage to even attempt this. She’s going to be completely at his mercy, and even though he’s always been able to easily overpower her, this is different. This isn’t holding her down with his weight or grabbing her hair to keep her in place.

She’s going to be in a position that she won’t be able to get out of, one he could easily leave her in or take advantage of if he so chose. He’ll never understand how she’s able to put this much trust in him, but he’ll never take it for granted. All Bucky wants to do is take care of her, bring her all the pleasure she can handle, watch her become a beautiful mess for him.

With the patience and tenderness only she evokes, he removes the last of her clothing, kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, bypassing her most intimate parts. By the time he’s guiding her to the swing, she’s relaxed in his embrace, eager to follow his lead.

Bucky’s never failed to make her feel like the hottest woman in existence, and this is no exception. Allowing him to help her into the swing, she lays back, her upper body fully supported as he tenderly secures her limbs. For now, her arms rest by her head, her hands through the loops as he positions her knees back, the leather straps around her ankles keeping her spread for him.

One look at her and he’s letting out a soft curse, his hungry eyes roaming every inch of her on display, not giving her insecurities a chance to resurface. “You look so good like this, doll.” Better than anything he imagined. And before they go any further, he needs her to remember it for the rest of the night.

Quickly shredding his underwear, Bucky’s cock springs free, hard and glistening with precum from just the sight of her naked and waiting for him. Never taking his eyes off of her, he swipes a generous amount of spit from his mouth and wraps his hand around his shaft, giving himself a few slow, firm strokes to get himself slick.

Mesmerized, her skin grows warm as she watches Bucky pleasure himself, the initial thought that he was already going to fuck her soon replaced by the realization of what’s happening. Proving, once again, how much he wants her, how much she turns him on just by simply existing.

Already breathing heavily, arousal coursing through her veins, she grips the padded chains by her hands and whispers his name, the need for him to touch her evident in her voice. With a slow shake of his head, Bucky gives her that smile that’s been making her weak in the knees since the day she met him.

“Just wanna look at you first,” he tells her, the movement of his hand never ceasing, “I think you forget how much I enjoy just watching you.” 

Stepping closer, finding his rightful place between her thighs, Bucky starts stroking his cock faster, barely inches from her inviting pussy, resisting the urge to bury himself inside of her. Between shuddering gasps, he keeps talking, praising her, highlighting all the things he loves about her body, his gaze settling on each spot as she squirms helplessly.

She has half a mind to try to pull her hands free to reach out for him, desperate for more, Bucky’s actions driving her wild. She’s just as eager to see where this is going though, unable to look away as the telltale signs of his impending orgasm start to play out across his features. The tension building in his shoulders, the furrowing of his brow, the delicious noises leaving his parted lips. 

“So damn hot, baby,” he growls, drawing another unabashed whimper from her, her own breathy moans increasing right along with his. “I’m not even thinking about all the things I’m gonna do to you and you already have me so fucking close.”

“Oh god,” she breathes, her walls clenching around nothing, her thighs trembling with need. She’s so wet for him, each pass of his hand along his thick cock fueling the lust trying to consume her. 

Bucky’s pleasure has always turned her on, but this is a whole new level, the sight of him working himself towards an orgasm all because of her naked body has her on the edge of begging for his touch. He doesn’t give her a chance though, his rough voice suddenly demanding more.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” she exhales sharply, barely letting him finish the question, lifting up from the headrest to get a better look, letting her gaze travel from his flushed face down to his hand moving faster, his strokes focusing on his engorged head, the tip leaking a steady flow of precum.

“Tell me. Tell me you’re mine,” he orders, desperate to hear the words from the woman he loves more than he ever thought he was capable of. She’s more than he could ever deserve, and watching her be so vulnerable for him has him aching to be reminded how much she loves him.

“I’m yours,” she promises, nodding her head, tearing her eyes away from his cock to meet his gaze once again, his intense stare sending a strong surge of pleasure straight to her clit. 

A moment that started off just about her has gratefully shifted to a mutual need of assurance and the words spill out of her without any more prompting, “I love you, I love you so much.”

That’s all Bucky needs before he’s letting go with a gasp of her name, followed by a string of curses as hot spurts of his release paint her inner thigh, his vibranium hand gripping the sturdy chain connected to her ankle. It has her panting, the physical sensations caused by the pleasure overwhelming him leaving her dizzy with need, her hands tugging harder at the straps in hopes of grounding herself.

The instant his lungs fill with much needed oxygen, he utters words of love and admiration for her, using every bit of restraint to keep from touching her for now. He plans to give her everything she can handle tonight, but there’s no rush as he comes down, wanting to take his time to explore every delectable inch of her.

With everything they could possibly need laid out at the foot of the bed, Bucky reaches for the damp washcloth and brings it to her skin, cleaning her up with slow, smooth movements, making a mental note to do this again when he can take a picture of her covered with his seed, the promising image causing his cock to twitch. 

Once she’s free of his mark, he tosses the washcloth and finally takes pity on her, his hands following the earlier path his eyes had taken, caressing parts of her that he’ll never get enough of. Her kissable lips. Her neck, the perfect size to wrap his hand around. Her strong arms. Her beautiful tits and pebbled nipples. Her soft belly, the way it moves under his touch. Her thick, sensitive thighs that were made to squeeze him.

By the time he’s dragging the back of his fingers closer to her pussy, she’s trembling, writhing and whimpering, her breaths quick and uneven. Her responses are addicting, driving him to continue teasing her, his fingertips ghosting over her mound before moving back up, bypassing all her ticklish spots until he’s back to her breasts, cupping them in his large hands.

“Yes, please,” she moans, the slight arch of her back giving him better leverage to pinch her nipples, his fingers playfully tugging them, making her body sway in the swing. 

“Oh, look at that,” he murmurs, his voice barely reaching her ears as he repeats the action, the movement of her body bringing her closer to his, letting her feel his growing erection. “We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, sweetheart.”

She’s quick to nod in agreement, not giving him any reason to slow down or stop, waiting with baited breath as goosebumps cover her skin. He’s barely touched her and she’s on edge, her body wound tight, longing for him to do everything he’s been promising for weeks now. 

As if reading her mind - or just knowing her as well as he does - one last pull of her nipples and he’s leaning over, crashing his lips on hers, his tongue quickly seeking entrance to deepen the kiss. It sets her off, her hands gripping her binds harder, trying to grind herself against him as she welcomes his mouth on hers.

Bucky doesn’t stop her, moving his hands to the chains to steady himself, allowing her to bring herself pleasure with his body, his hard cock trapped against her ass. Trailing kisses down her neck, biting all the sensitive spots along the way, he makes his way to her heaving chest, capturing her nipple in his mouth, scraping the erect bud with his teeth.

Her needy whines only encourage him to continue with his pace, giving both nipples equal attention, his own hips thrusting gently in time with hers. The need to worship every inch of her has Bucky leaving her breasts as soon as she’s shuddering underneath him, pleading for more, and he works his mouth lower, over her stomach, peppering kisses along her soft rolls and pretty stretch marks.

She’s barely able to focus, her breathing out of control, Bucky reducing her to a whimpering mess, overwhelmed by the loss of his body heat against her pussy. He doesn’t make her wait long, taking the time to angle her into a lower position, giving her a wicked smile the entire time, hinting at what’s to come.

And then she’s shaking with anticipation, watching him kneel between her thighs, his head at the optimal height to return his lips to her body, kissing her inner thighs, nibbling a path towards her pussy. 

Expecting Bucky to keep teasing her, the sudden swipe of his tongue along her slick slit has her gasping out his name, wantonly begging him not to stop. She can already feel the pressure building, all of his earlier attention pushing her close to the edge, and now the slow lapping of his tongue tasting every inch of her is enough to have her thighs tensing all over again.

His senses are flooded by her, inhaling the heady scent of her arousal, burying his face between her thighs to fuck her with his tongue, devouring every last bit of her he can while his hands grip her thighs to grind her against his mouth. She’s his favorite meal, enjoying every second he gets to spend right here, his nose pressed against her clit as she chases her pleasure.

Her first orgasm hits her like a force, leaving her breathless, each surge causing her hips to buck against him, the firm hold of her thighs coupled with the binds around her limbs intensifying everything. Bucky gives her no time to relax, spreading her open with his fingers to close his mouth over her clit, moaning at the pulse of the aftershocks still overtaking her.

It’s almost too much, but he’s an expert at her body, knowing exactly how to build her up without pushing her too fast, the pad of his finger teasing her entrance. She’s quick to tell him yes, his muffled growl of approval vibrating against her, letting her welcoming pussy envelope his finger, filling her in one smooth motion.

If Bucky wasn’t so intent on making her come again, he’d praise her, tell her how good she feels, how hard he is from the taste of her. There will be plenty of time for that later, for now he increases the pressure, swirling his tongue over her swollen clit as he crooks his finger inside of her, eager to get her there as quickly as possible.

It doesn’t take long, a few strokes of his thick finger and she’s gone, crying out his name, her hands pulling hard at the straps. He helps her ride out the waves, prolonging her pleasure until it starts to shift into pain, then carefully brings her back down to reality, murmuring soft words of praise he’s not even sure she’s processing yet.

She’s not, but she’s grateful for them, letting out a light groan when Bucky readjusts her again, giving her a chance to stretch her legs, her ankles remaining bound. All the insecurities she thought would still be plaguing her are long gone, allowing Bucky to do with her as he pleases, trusting him to take care of her.

He’s never disappointed her, not when it comes to this, and she gives him a lazy smile as he places a bottle of water in front of her, guiding the straw to her mouth to let her drink as much as she needs. Once he’s satisfied she’s ready to keep going, he readjusts her until she’s laying flat, her arms pulled down to her sides. 

She already knows what’s coming, turning her head to look at him as he walks around her, his hard cock making her salivate. There’s nothing she wants more than to bring him as much pleasure as he’s brought her, eagerly opening her mouth, her tongue shamelessly sticking out to greet him.

Bucky’s so proud of her, and wastes no time in telling her, one hand on the back of her head to hold her still, “You’re doing so good, baby.” The moment their eyes meet, his hips jut forward, smearing a drop of precum along the flat of her tongue, an obvious ripple of pleasure rushing over her at the taste of him. 

It’s nearly enough to have him losing control, but he takes a steadying breath and instructs her, “Stay just like that for me, let me feel you.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, relaxing her jaw as he finds a shallow rhythm, pushing into her mouth, dragging the head of his cock over her tongue. Fighting the urge to touch him, her binds not providing much leverage anyway, all she can do is lay here for him, letting Bucky use her body, his vibranium hand lifted to hold onto the chain.

The first time he fucked her mouth, she was in complete control, hovering over him, one hand wrapped around his cock so he couldn’t go too deep. He came so fast, and afterwards, she was so turned on, he made her ride his face until she collapsed from exhaustion. Since then, she’s gone out of her way to prove how much she loves sucking his cock, each time encouraging him to take over, set the pace, take his pleasure from her.

It turns her on as much as everything else about him, and even though she wants all the attention to be on him right now, she doesn’t mind when his hand returns to her body, his long fingers wrapping around her throat before sliding lower, scratching his blunt nails between her breasts. 

She’s so focused on the feel of his thick cock stretching her mouth, Bucky taking his time to work up to a faster pace, that she doesn’t even realize there’s a toy in his hand, the looped handle of the vibrator resting on his thumb. The only warning that comes is the faint click and soft buzzing, his hips pausing as the vibrations come into contact with her nipple.

Her loud moans only increase when he starts moving again, fucking her mouth deeper, forcing her to breathe out of her nose as her lips close around him. Careful not to take it too far, he splits his attention between her face and her body, slipping the vibrator down to tease between her thighs, the momentary tensing lasting for barely a second until she’s relaxing for him. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, taking hold of the back of her head with his metal hand to steady her in order to bring them both as much pleasure as he can, pressing the toy harder against her clit. “Taking my cock so well, like you were made for me, ya know that?”

His words have the desired effect and she whines around his cock, wanting him closer, desperate for him to go faster, each thrust of his hips making her entire body tingle. There’s nothing like this feeling, being completely at his mercy, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving her, the vulnerability of it all sending her further towards the peak.

Taking the hint, Bucky speeds up, groaning at the tight heat of her throat surrounding him, the sound of her gagging triggering his primal side. The side she empowers him to explore in the safety of their relationship. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, his palm holding the toy against her, rubbing her clit in a familiar rhythm, his fingertips dipping between her folds to tease her entrance. “You love choking on my cock, don’t ya, sweetheart?” 

Her answer is another exquisite gag around his sensitive head and he pulls back long enough to let her take a deep breath, then he’s resuming the pace, telling her, “Gonna keep fucking this perfect mouth until you come for me again.”

It’s going to happen, the familiar tingle building, the strong vibrations pulsing through her sensitive clit making her see stars. She’s enjoying herself too much to just let go yet, welcoming several more thrusts of his cock, the few tears spilling down her cheeks mixing with her saliva as he fucks her throat.

Bucky knows what she’s doing, and as much as he loves when she communicates what she wants, he’s more than happy to help her remember she’s not in control tonight. With an impatient growl, he tightens his grip on her head, and pushes himself deeper, forcing her throat to tense around his cock. “Ya gotta come baby, or I'm not gonna stop.”

The tension spreads to the rest of her body, leaving no doubt that this is exactly what she wants, the roughness of his actions pushing her into another earth-shattering orgasm. He pulls out at the last second, almost coming himself, a string of saliva connecting them for a brief moment as she cries out from the onslaught of pleasure overloading her senses. 

Bucky's quick to comfort her, crouching down to talk her through it, his hands stroking across her belly, the toy tossed aside. “I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so good for me. I love you so much.”

She can’t speak; she’s barely able to string a coherent thought together, her body trembling and her heart racing, pleasure still coursing through her. Bucky's presence, as always, soothes her, allows her to come down at her own pace without thinking about what’s coming next. 

Her only priority is to bask in the experience he's providing her, his constant touch keeping her present, reminding her there's no rush. He finds pleasure in taking care of her, in whatever form that takes.

When the aftershocks fade, and she starts to come back to him, only then does he move, taking the time to clean her up, wiping away all evidence of her enthusiastic blowjob, Bucky murmuring more words of praise and appreciation. 

Another sip of much-needed water and she finds her barings, her words slowly returning to her so she can voice her own gratitude. He might have trouble believing it, but he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her and she’ll take every opportunity to remind him. 

Bucky’s soft smile conveys more than he’s capable of vocalizing, and it’s more than enough for her, his silence never bothering her. Smiling adoringly up at him, she watches him walk around her suspended body, his fingers trailing over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, reigniting the flames of her arousal. 

Despite all the pleasure he’s already brought her, her body craves more, desperate to feel him, to have him quell the ache building inside of her, in the way only he can. An exhale of his name, followed by a soft, breathless whisper of ‘please’ and he’s touching more of her, his unhurried actions speaking before he does, causing her to shift and let out a needy whine.

“Shh,” Bucky soothes, kissing his way up her body until he’s leaning over her, his metal hand gripping one of the chains to steady himself, his lips seeking out hers. She barely lets him kiss her, her tongue teasing over his before she’s turning her head to repeat herself, her warm breath ghosting over his ear, reinforcing how much she needs him to fuck her.

He almost throws caution to the wind, sliding his hand down to grip her hip and pull her pliant body against his, her hot, slick sex inviting him to bury himself inside of her. It’s all he wants, to lose himself in her, to give her everything she could possibly ask for. It just isn’t an option right now.

Encouraging her to grind against him, he nuzzles her cheek, breathing heavily as he murmurs, “I know, baby, I know.” It pains him to make her wait, her yearning pleas nearly breaking him, his own body fighting for control, his cock throbbing against her ass, leaking precum. 

Somehow finding the resolve to resist her, Bucky maintains contact, guiding her movements against him, his ears trained on her uneven breathes as he tells her, “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, I promise, but I need you to give me a minute, okay?”

Interrupting her before she can start to argue, he pulls back to meet her gaze, giving her an affectionate smile, trying to ease her worry. “You’re doing so good for me,” he assures her, twinges of a playful grin creeping up when she lets out an exasperated sigh, her brow furrowing with uncertainty. 

“You are, doll,” he says, dipping his head to kiss her neck, relishing the sounds he brings out of her with a simple touch. “In fact, you were so good you almost made me come down your throat.”

Her body reacts to his words, her hips lifting to seek more friction, shamelessly grinding herself against his pelvis, her hands tugging hard at her binds. “Oh god,” she breathes, “Bucky, please.” She's so turned on, her wetness seeping down between her ass cheeks, her tense thighs shaking with anticipation, unable to focus on anything except how empty she feels.

The next words out of his mouth do nothing to alleviate the burning desire threatening to make her lose her mind, Bucky growling, “Your mouth felt so good, baby, you were so fucking perfect.” Almost on the verge of tears, her hips buck, his next confession only adding to her desperation, “So, as much as I wanna be buried inside you, if I were to start fucking you right now, it’d be over a lot quicker than I’d like to admit.”

Giving her no chance to object, his metal hand cradles her head, pulling her into a passionate kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. She’s quick to comply, understanding flowing between them, Bucky’s fear of disappointing her evident, causing her to finally relent, trusting him to take care of her.

There might not be anything else that can truly scratch this particular itch, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have fun trying, Bucky wasting no time in making a short trip to the bed to grab a toy. On his way back, he brings the ottoman, grinning at her as he takes a seat right between her spread thighs, his shoulders level with her body, giving him access to every single inch of her.

A flush spreads across her skin, her body angled enough to let her watch Bucky settle in for the show, the curved vibrator already turned on and teasing along the back of her thigh. He’s giving her time to withdraw her consent, as if that’s even an option for her right now, her entire body on edge, waiting for him to take pity on her.

If it were any other time, this might be too much, her insecurities whispering in the back of her mind, attempting to ruin the moment. It wouldn’t be the first time, and Bucky would gladly help her through it, never shying away from telling her how hot she is, how he can never get enough of her.

It’s not necessary this time, no matter how vulnerable and on display she feels, Bucky’s metal hand stroking along her belly, causing her to sway towards him. Whatever he’s planning, she’ll accept without hesitation, wanting nothing more than to be completely at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long, Bucky ducking his head to follow the trail of the vibrations, nipping and licking a path to her dripping pussy, leaving her panting for more. And the moment she’s nodding her head, whispering, “yes, please, oh god,” in a rush of a heavy exhale, he’s sliding the tip of the toy through her wetness, rewarding her.

“Good girl,” he praises, his words muffled against a particularly sensitive spot of her thigh, her appreciative whine only growing when he presses against her soaked entrance, telling him everything he needs to know. And now that Bucky’s here, the toy meeting no resistance, he can’t resist surging forward, refusing to tease her anymore, filling her as his teeth sink into the flesh of her trembling thigh.

The exquisite pleasure has her crying out, her knuckles turning white from her strained grip on the padded chains, Bucky’s vibranium hand firmly pressed against her stomach to keep her in place as he starts to fuck her with hard, deep strokes. 

Her bound ankles give her no leverage, increasing the helpless feeling, and she falls headfirst into it, each thrust eliciting another noise of pleasure, every breathy utterance growing more incoherent. Her entire focus is narrowed down to him and the indescribable pleasure he’s bringing her, Bucky perfecting the speed and rhythm to have the pressure building almost too quickly.

No part of her feels compelled to fight it, her head thrown back, eyes shut tight, her heart pounding in her ears as she welcomes everything he gives her. Bucky proving once again he can read her body like an open book, each subtle gasp or slight tension guiding him to keep the toy hitting that spot deep inside of her that makes her lose her breath.

“That’s it,” he grunts, his feet finding purchase against the carpet as he grabs hold of her soft stomach, swinging her body in time with his thrusts, her wetness coating his hand, the beautiful sight causing his cock to pulse. “Fuck. Love watching you like this. Want you to come again for me, can you do that, baby?”

The question triggers another mind-numbing orgasm, her muscles growing taut and her mouth opens in a silent scream, Bucky’s eyes trained on the incredible image, watching her lose control. All because of him. The hands that were once used as a weapon are now used to bring nothing but pleasure to the most important person in his life.

It’s nearly enough to have him coming right along with her, the emotion threatening to lock up his voice, forcing him to power through, needing her to hear his familiar stream of praise and love. He’ll never leave her wanting, not during such a time of need, Bucky’s only priority to keep her in that headspace she craves so much.

Where nothing exists but the two of them and the euphoria coursing through her, her mind forgetting everything else. All the normal worries and anxieties are long gone. Replaced by a tingly buzz, a high that she’s only ever chased with him. 

Bucky’s far from done with her, his own need to feel her wrapped around him pushed to the side, instead focusing on grinding the toy deep inside of her, addicted to the way she reacts. Her body is still pulsing with aftershocks, her shuddering breaths signaling how far her limits are being pushed, her wrists tugging at her binds, and other than her soft, gasping whimpers, she makes no objections.

She’s not too far gone that she wouldn’t tell him to stop if she needed to, Bucky taking that as his signal to keep going, turning the vibrations up and angling the toy to rub hard along her front wall. It brings out the expected reaction, her eyes rolling back and her toes curling, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

“You’re so perfect, doll, ya know that?” Not waiting for an answer, he slides his left hand down between her thighs to apply pressure to her clit, a wave of pleasure washing over him to match the one causing her body to buck. “I swear you were made for me,” he continues, groaning when she starts to squirt for him. “I’ll never get enough of you. Not in a million fucking years.”

She loses track of everything except the overwhelming pressure building, Bucky’s vibranium palm pressed against her clit almost too much, the tension in her lower stomach on the verge of causing cramps. Bucky’s barely moving the toy, but each hard grind against her g-spot is making her squirt, another orgasm soon to come barreling down on her.

It feels too soon, her body practically still recovering from the last one, and it’s not long before she’s whispering his name, her head lolling on the headrest, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. No change in pace comes, Bucky softly shushing her, telling her, “It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good for me. Wanna watch you come one more time, can you do that for me?”

Incapable of nodding her head, she whines his name, followed by the soft whisper of ‘yes’, the word barely audible. There’s no doubt Bucky hears her, his head dipping to kiss the back of her thigh, muttering more praise and affirmations in response, encouraging her to let go, to let him witness her fall apart one more time.

“As soon as you do, I‘m gonna fuck you sweetheart,” he promises, a grin spreading across his features when she resumes her grip on the chains, seeing the desperation clearly fueling her actions. His consistent movements never cease, using the toy to drive her higher, providing her with exactly what he knows will push her over the edge. “That’s right, baby. All ya gotta do is come for me, show me how much you want my cock buried inside this perfect pussy.” 

A few more controlled thrusts and she has no choice but to give in, her back arching as the intense orgasm takes control, sparks of electric pleasure radiating from her core. Bucky works her through it, quickly standing up, kicking the ottoman out of the way in order to reach higher up her body, holding onto her forearm while he slowly fucks through each wave with the toy, stopping only once he’s sure she’s had enough.

It takes her longer to recover this time, Bucky taking the time to work out any kinks in her muscles, letting her stretch her limbs within the confines of her binds. He’s going to keep his word, planning to fuck her until she’s completely satiated. But, first he has to ensure he hasn’t pushed her too hard, using the opportunity to wipe away the sweat glistening on her skin and give them both more water.

As grateful as she is for the pause, she’s more than eager to keep going, ready to hold him to his promise. There’s no need for more begging - a momentary interlude so Bucky can readjust her position and then he’s exactly where he belongs, his hard cock perfectly aligned with her swollen pussy. 

The determined look on his face speaks volumes, coaxing her further into submission, her limbs relaxed, her breathing slow and even. There’s no rushing him, Bucky’s hands caressing her everywhere, languid movements across her skin, fingertips ghosting over her nipples, palms stroking down her torso.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze settling on hers, an ardent smile lighting up his face. “I’m so grateful to call you mine.”

Words fail her, warmth spreading across her skin, his praise stirring up a smile of her own, conveying how much she loves and appreciates him. Nothing will ever compare to the connection they share, the incredible, undeniable physical chemistry that flows between them. 

They’re compatible in all the ways that matter, understanding each other on a level neither ever thought they’d have the privilege of experiencing. It allows them both to be present, her submissive nature enticing Bucky to fully embrace the power of being in complete control of the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

Hooking her right leg over his vibranium arm, he takes hold of his thick shaft with his free hand and guides the tip of his cock to her slit, teasing her with slow movements, gathering her wetness as he listens to her breath hitch. She’s unable to stop the subconscious shifting of her hips, or the trembling of her thighs, but her arms remain slack, her trusting gaze causing his own heart to flutter.

His mind stays clear, intent on making this an unforgettable first time in their new swing, and as he slips just the head of his cock into her welcoming pussy, he lets out a heavy breath, asking her, “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” A lazy nod of her head and he’s following up with, “Yeah? Gonna let me fuck this pussy however I want, baby?”

Managing to verbalize her consent, she whispers a soft, “please” and offers another nod, her eyes fluttering as his cock starts to fill her, Bucky fucking her with just the first inch. When she makes no other attempt to move, her supported body relaxed, he’s reached his limit, finally giving in to the intense need to have her wrapped around him.

Without warning, he hooks her other leg over his right arm and slams home, burying himself balls-deep in one swift movement, the tight, wet heat of her pussy nearly sending him spiraling out of control. Her reaction does little to help him maintain that control, her head thrown back, her strangled cry shooting pleasure straight up his spine, and for a brief moment, all he can do is grip the top of her thighs, grinding hard against her.

“Fuck,” he exhales, quickly shaking his head to gather his composure. “You feel so good, doll, wanna stay inside you forever.” He’ll definitely come if he does and slowly retreats, pulling his hips back until just the head of his cock rests within her, her walls pulsing in an attempt to lure him back.

Bucky sets an agonizingly slow pace, pausing long enough to allow her to relax, then thrusting forward, filling her, the intoxicating noises spilling out of her spurring him on. Her breathless whines, her needy whimpers, her shuddering pleas as she starts to beg him to fuck her faster each time he bottoms out. It’s too addicting to ignore, pushing him to draw more sounds out of her.

Her crying chants of “please” get louder each time he withdraws, Bucky torturously dragging his cock along her slick walls, teasing her with possibilities, only to keep the same pace, giving her no reprieve. Behind the tingling promise of pleasure, the building frustration starts to grow to unbearable heights, her brow furrowing, her fingers tightening their hold on her binds, tears pricking her eyes. 

On the next thrust, his loud groan of pleasure reaching her ears, her endless begging turns to crying, the shake of her head telling him she’s reached her limit before she can even get the words out. “I can’t… Bucky… please, I can’t.”

“Shh,” he whispers, providing comfort with his touch, caressing the back of her thighs, encouraging her to ease her legs back. “I know, baby, you’re doing so good, just relax for me.” 

The temptation to challenge him dies on her tongue and she flops her head back, begrudgingly giving in to his request, grateful to at least still have him buried deep inside of her. Not wanting to give him a reason to change his plans, she patiently watches him reach forward to readjust the chains once again, her skin flushing as he supplies a steady stream of praise.

The new position has her upper body slightly elevated, and soon he’s guiding her feet, placing them flat against his chest, offering her leverage for what feels like the first time all night. She knows better than to start moving, and the delighted grin suddenly gracing his face tells her she’s choosing the right option. 

“Oh, good girl,” he growls, his hips twitching, pulling more moans out of both of them. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby. Now, do me a favor and push against me.” 

She obeys immediately, following his instructions until just the head of his cock rests inside of her, pausing without needing to be told, eagerly awaiting his next command. There’s no relaxing at this point, her unfurled legs tense with anticipation, her hands wrapped around the chains, her feet trembling against Bucky’s solid chest.

“That’s it,” he nods, gripping her ankles right below her binds, holding her tight against him, “fuck, you’re perfect.” A quiet second to appreciate the breathtaking vision laid out before him, steeling himself for what’s to come, and then he’s ordering her to drop, his resolve almost crumbling when she complies without hesitation, impaling herself on his cock.

The wide-eyed, hopeful look on her face does wonders for his ego, as does her familiar cry of pleasure filling his ears, Bucky’s body already aching to take over, fuck her until she’s screaming for him. He wants this more though, to watch her pleasure herself, to prove how much she wants him before he takes back control.

A short pause, unable to resist teasing her for just a moment longer, and then he’s nodding his head, giving her permission, planting his feet for stability as she starts to move, pushing against his chest. This time, she leaves almost half of his length inside of her before she’s dropping again, using the momentum of her swinging body to fuck herself.

“Oh shit, look at you,” Bucky grunts, his gaze torn between her gorgeous curves and his cock disappearing over and over, evidence of her arousal coating his shaft. “My desperate, needy girl. Taking my cock so well. Feels so fucking good, baby.”

His words spur her on, the powerful exhilaration coursing through her driving her to pick up speed, intent on bringing them both as much pleasure as possible. Incoherent words escape between heavy grunts, her body swaying in time with her thrusts, her eyes locked on Bucky’s intense, lust-filled stare. 

The vulnerability she feels from Bucky watching every single inch of her - her jiggling thighs and tummy, her bouncing tits, her straining arms - would usually be enough to have her wanting to hide parts of herself, but tonight it triggers something else inside of her. A strange bout of confidence that has her moaning his name, professing her love for him as she works her body to its limit.

Bucky’s own moan blends with hers, his fingers digging into her ankles as he lets out a breathless grunt of her name. “Fuck, I love you, so fucking much.” The obvious tension in her legs grows and soon he’s letting out another heavy breath to ask her, “Tell me what you need, baby, you need me to fuck you now? Show you just how much I love you?”

All he needs is a nod of her head and he’s taking over, grabbing her legs as her pussy flutters, her velvety walls encouraging his thrusts. Watching her intently, Bucky mirrors the rhythm she had just set, holding her calves against his shoulders in order to force her body to meet his pistoning hips, each stroke of his cock making her toes curl.

He can already feel his own orgasm building, his normal stamina being tested from sharing this new, profound experience with her, the sight of her completely at his mercy being seared into his brain. New fuel for his masturbatory fantasies for years to come.

Determined to feel her come first, Bucky keeps talking to her, telling her how hot she is, how much he loves fucking her, how incredible she feels wrapped around him. Reminding her that she’s his and he’s never letting her go. “Gonna get to keep fucking this pussy forever, sweetheart. Whenever I fucking want, won’t I?”

Her response comes out as a harsh whine, her agreement evident in the way she cries out his name, her body growing taut, his cock hitting that spot deep inside of her that’s sure to send her flying. All it takes is a few more powerful thrusts, Bucky telling her to let go, and she’s soaring, coming harder than she has all night, her pussy nearly pushing him out from the intense waves.

It proves too much for him, his hips faltering in his attempt to fuck her through it, Bucky managing to bury himself as deep as he can, trying to prolong her pleasure with short thrusts as she milks him dry. This wasn’t at all how he planned tonight to end, already craving to feel her come around him again, her trembling body inviting him to wrap her legs around his waist.

She welcomes the sudden weight of him, their mouths crashing together in a heated kiss, her bound limbs meeting resistance in her effort to cling to him, her brain practically mush, her body still pulsing with aftershocks. She’s not even aware she’s still moving against him, confusion settling in when his softening cock begins to slip out of her, the loss of their physical connection causing her to whimper against his lips.

Another hungry kiss and then he’s reassuring her, his voice rough with desire, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, baby.” He doesn’t leave her empty for long, his hand sliding between their bodies to fill her with two fingers, her pussy slick with their combined fluids. “Oh fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, leaning up to watch her, her back arching from the sudden pressure along her front wall.

He leaves her speechless again, her eyes rolling back, her hands trembling around the chains, his expert touch making it impossible to focus. Not that she needs to, Bucky talking her through it, his free hand sliding over her shuddering body, the smooth metal soon wrapping around her throat as he starts to fuck her harder.

“Love feeling you like this, doll,” he tells her, his heavy breaths matching hers, “your pussy full of my cum, and still desperate for more.” All she can do is nod her head, her words trapped in her throat, incoherent whines escaping with each thrust of his fingers. “Can’t get enough of me, can you, baby? Taking everything I give you like the good girl you are.”

Watching her closely, Bucky slowly adds his index finger, his three thick digits filling and stretching her, his leaking cum allowing him deep inside. She’s so tight, her walls clenching, her breaths turning to pants, but there’s no hint of reluctance, her gasps and whimpers telling him all he needs to know. 

With his vibranium hand wrapped around her throat, his thumb pressed against her pulse point, he maintains a steady pace, witnessing all the telltale signs of how close he already has her to coming again. It’s exactly what he wants, to make her lose control, over and over again, until she can’t handle anymore. 

Arousal already has his cock twitching again, her beautiful noises and unfiltered reactions triggering his need for more. To feel as much of her as he can. The slowing of his fingers has her eyes fluttering open, her mouth parting, her obvious discontent fading when she finds him smiling down at her. 

His intentions become clear the moment his pinkie joins the rest of his slick fingers, the sudden tension rolling through her body giving him pause. But then she’s nodding her head, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she relaxes and Bucky starts slowly, sliding his fingers in centimeters at time, letting her adjust to the increasing fullness.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, “doing so good for me. Just breathe and let me in, baby.”

He’s in awe of her, how readily she gives herself to him, trusting him to take care of her, to never steer her wrong. It’s a responsibility he wasn’t sure he’d ever be comfortable taking on, and now he can’t ever imagine not having this with her. Owning every single part of her heart, mind, and body.

Her greedy pussy swallows his fingers up to his knuckles, Bucky refraining from pushing her limits any further, his slow, hard thrusts causing her to squirt and cry out his name. His hand tightens around her throat, holding her down against the swing and he growls her name in response, asking her, “Gonna come for me again, aren’t you, sweetheart? With my fingers fucking my cum back inside of you. Such a good fucking girl.”

She nearly passes out this time, her vision going white, her blood pounding in her ears, her breath caught in her lungs as her limbs go taut, pulling hard at her binds. She vaguely hears Bucky talking to her, no doubt praising her, telling her how much he loves, but she’s too far gone, her world spinning for several glorious seconds. 

His firm touches bring her back to reality, the contrast of his metal hand on her soft, flushed skin eliciting a moan of pleasure, her noises only getting louder when he leaves her empty. There’s a soft whine from the loss of him, but it’s quickly replaced by one of excitement as she watches him wrap his cum-slick hand around his hard cock.

Even as he starts to stroke himself, he’s checking in with her, asking if she needs a break, gladly offering her the world. All she wants is him, her eyes drawn to his hand, the sight of him pleasuring himself again sending tingles spreading across her skin. 

Once he’s sure she’s okay to keep going, he’s readjusting the chains with his left hand, lowering her upper body to level position and pushing her legs back so she’s spread wide. The entire time, he never stops touching himself and it drives her crazy with lust, wanting him back inside of her, her pussy pulsing with anticipation.

Bucky has other ideas though, giving her a playful wink before he’s crouching down to taste her, his tongue licking up their cum coating her swollen flesh, the same combination of fluids he’s using to to jerk himself off. It sends a shock of pleasure straight to his cock, the vibrations of his moan from the unique flavor making her twitch, almost overstimulated.

He takes pity on her, dragging the tip of his tongue through her folds, licking her from her sensitive clit, all the way down to her ass, his ears perking at her soft, breathy moans. He repeats the action, the flat of his tongue tasting every delicious inch of her, drawing more encouraging noises, the subtle signs telling him exactly what she’s craving.

Taking his time, Bucky’s attention hovers around her clit before dipping lower, placing open mouth kisses along each side of her spread pussy, then each supple cheek, working his way towards her puckered hole. One slow swirl of his tongue and she’s whispering his name, telling him yes, the simple word causing him to grip the base of his cock, pleasure shooting straight up his spine.

He probes her tight passage with the tip of his tongue, his metal fingers pressing against the top of her mound, holding her place, listening to her appreciative sounds getting louder. Her skin is already slick with her wetness, but Bucky adds more saliva, the increased lubrication allowing him to push deeper, his tongue spearing her ass with slow, teasing thrusts.

Using the swing to his advantage, his fingers dig into her flesh to pull her towards his mouth, essentially causing her to ride his tongue, his palm applying pressure to her clit. With the sounds she’s making, he briefly wonders if he can make her come like this, but then she’s arching her back, her legs tensing in an attempt to pull him deeper, her soft whimpering of ‘please’ changing his plans.

A break is warranted, Bucky taking just a minute to gather the necessary items, pausing once again to brush her hair out of her face and get her more comfortable. Returning to his rightful place between her thighs, he waits patiently for her to meet his gaze, her eager look enough to have him bringing the flared toy, already slick with copious amounts of lube, to rest between her ass cheeks.

Even though her need is written all over her face, Bucky requires more, telling her, “I need your words, sweetheart. Tell me you want this.” At first, all she can offer is a nod of her head, her voice seeming to fail her, her hips twitching, grinding against the tip of the toy. 

He’s patient, sliding his left hand along her torso, fingers ghosting over her nipples, drawing heavier breaths out of her. Enticing her with a teasing probe, she finally exhales harshly, whispering, “Yes, please, fuck my ass.”

A smile spreads across his face and the praise of, “good girl” fills her ears as he presses the toy deeper, his careful movements only seeming to add to her desperation, her body craving more. Bucky doesn’t make her ask this time, his gaze meeting hers as he starts to fuck her slowly, sliding deeper with twisting motions, ensuring the lube provides smooth movements. 

When his hand returns to her clit, she can already feel the familiar pressure building, each thrust driving her higher, her pussy pulsing, clenching around nothing, triggering the need to have him inside of her again. She doesn’t immediately vocalize it, her mind and body overwhelmed, her head pressing hard against the headrest, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

Bucky refuses to allow it though, recognizing the look on her face, forcing her to talk, asking her what she wants. It feels almost impossible to speak, the rhythm of the toy and his consistent touch against her clit sending sparks of pleasure throughout her entire body, and yet, through the haze of it all, she wants to please him. 

Forcing the words out between shuddering breaths, she begs him to fuck her, Bucky’s response of, “I am fucking you, baby,” ripping a loud, desperate whine out of her.

“Please,” she manages, her thighs shaking, her nerves on edge, his feigned ignorance increasing her frustration.

A swipe of his thumb over her clit and then he’s dipping lower, circling her soaked entrance, her walls trying to draw him in. He resists the urge, instead sliding the toy deep inside her ass as he asks, “Is that what my dirty girl needs? To have both holes filled?” A pleading yes, and Bucky can’t resist continuing, “Yeah, baby? You need my cock in your tight pussy while this toy fucks your ass?”

The tears pricking her eyes break his resolve and he nods, his reverent touch moving back up her body, his fingers splayed across her chest as he steps forward, the head of his cock seeking out her entrance. Both hands grip her breasts and he presses forward, slipping deep inside her waiting pussy, his balls grinding the base of the toy resting in her ass.

Everything else falls away, Bucky’s focus lasered in on her, all his senses consumed by the ecstasy she brings, the feeling she evokes unlike anything he’s ever experienced. He’ll never get enough of her and as he starts to piston his hips, his hands cupping her large tits, pulling her body onto his cock, his only thought is to make her come again.

It doesn’t take long, Bucky angling his thrusts to grind hard against her gspot, his balls slapping against her ass, pressing the toy deep with each movement. Despite his own building pleasure, his words of praise come easy, his rough voice ordering her to come for him, his own desperation to feel her lose control pushing her over the edge, her bucking hips almost pushing him out.

A quick grab of her thighs and he’s forcing his cock to stay inside her spasming pussy, fucking her through the intense waves, his thrusts slowing, but never stopping. Bucky doesn’t give her a chance to come down from the onslaught of pleasure, keeping one arm around her quivering thigh, his other hand moves back to her clit, applying pressure as he tells her to give him one more.

She wants to - she wants to give him everything he asks for - but she’s reaching her limit, her body growing sore, sure to have her feeling the aftereffects of their session well into tomorrow. Her mouth opens to voice her uncertainty, the words, “I can’t” tumbling out even as Bucky starts to move faster, his heavy pants and grunts of pleasure making her squirt again.

He’s quick to disagree with her assessment, telling her, “Yes, you can. You’re gonna come all over my cock one more time, sweetheart, and then you know where I’m gonna come?”

There’s nothing else left for her to give, unable to focus long on anything other than the euphoria she’s chasing despite how tired she is. Bucky’s happy to keep talking to her even when she’s unable to respond, his words guiding her to where he needs her.

“As soon you come, I’m gonna tilt your head back and I’m gonna fuck your mouth, baby.” It’s nearly enough to make her lose control, her loud cry almost drowning out his next words, “Mmhmm, gonna fuck your mouth until I come down your throat.”

They’re both teetering on the edge of their final orgasms, Bucky’s voice rough with arousal, her fluttering walls inviting him to let go, to fill her once more with his seed. He holds back, his thrusts never ceasing, fucking her hard and fast, each movement grinding the toy deep in her ass, the exquisite noises she’s making telling him he’s on the right path.

“You love that idea, don’t ya, baby? Love taking my cock any way I give it to you, my beautiful, needy slut, just can’t get enough.”

A strangled cry and she comes for him, her tense limbs nearly breaking her binds, her back bowing, a loud scream of pleasure that pushes Bucky past his own limits. With a roar, he comes with her, the intensity blinding him, both hands now gripping her waist, forcing her onto his cock as he fucks them through it, trying to prolong everything for just a few moments longer.

Her tears of elation trigger his own, his lashes wet as he falls against her, the swing supporting his added weight, Bucky’s mouth seeking out hers. Making quick work of her binds, he’s soon guiding her limbs around his body, holding her tight against him, his cock still buried deep inside of her, her aftershocks soon causing him to slip out.

The loss is felt, but it’s easily overlooked, Bucky using the opportunity to tenderly remove the flared toy from her trembling body, soothing her with soft words and peppered kisses along her jaw. He’s rendered her speechless again, soft utterances of ‘oh my god’ and ‘holy shit’ escaping between her panting breaths. 

He’s only slightly better off, eternally grateful for his enhanced abilities helping him recover quicker, allowing him to tend to her. He’ll stay exactly where he is, for however long she needs, murmuring sweet nothings and soft praises, thanking her for being his. For loving him, as flawed as he is.

Eventually they make it to the bathroom, Bucky effortlessly carrying her, assisting her with cleaning up, the relaxing spray of the shower bringing her fully back to him. They remain locked in an embrace, his arms refusing to let her go the entire time, holding her weakened body against his during their brief shower.

There’s more to do, messes to clean up, things to put away, but for now, all that matters is the satiated woman pressed against him. A newly familiar sense of peace envelops Bucky, the warmth of genuine happiness settling over him, giving him a slight reprieve from the lingering ghosts of his past. 

He’ll never be able to fully convey how much she truly means to him, but he’ll sure as hell spend the rest of his life trying.

---------------------------

The Bet 

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[the-fiction-witch]

My King

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Aegons Wife) Rating - Sweet + Smut Word Count - 1330

Requested - I submitted a request/idea like this to another writer but I will not keep this like head canon idea type thing to myself........ Aegon is 100% the type to love his girl breastfeeding him... him being all stressed and angry or sad from the council not listening to him and Alicent being cruel and everything and he just wants to lay his head in her lap and latch his mouth onto her nipple and drink in her sweet milk... it makes him feel at peace... makes him feel wanted and loved and special

Writers Notes - I actually loved this idea so much I made two versions of it, cause I couldn't decide which angle I liked better so this is Version one a second will be coming soon.

Y/n sat in the royal chambers, perched softly on the ottoman beside the fire. Wearing her sweet soft green cotton gown with long off-shoulder sleeves. The twilight of the hour cascades purple and gold across the floor and tapestry-lined walls. Maids and guards long since sent away leaving only gentle sounds behind, The sound of the fire's soft crackles and pops, the sounds of gentle sucking, and of sweet heavenly humming.

Y/n hums softly to the baby in her arms, his little body cradled so sweetly and gently as the new prince feeds from his mother's breast.

“There we are, all done my little prince,” She cooed as she pulled the baby from her breast, wiped his lips, kissed his forehead and stroked her fingers softly over his Targaryen silver hair, She chuckled slightly at the baby's milk drunk little face, eyes droopy and sleepy.

“Fuck those cunts!” Erupted from the door as Aegon forced his way into the chamber throwing open the doors, letting them smack into the stone walls to their sides. He turned and slammed the doors in the faces of the guards who followed him, screaming to the ceiling like his own dragon,

Y/n, blinked a few times before she set the baby in the crib, “Is… everything alright my king?” She cooed,

He ran his hand through his silver hair and took a breath, “I wish to burn this infernal castle to the ground.”

“I see.” She nodded, “May I ask why?”

“Everything is why!” He yelled, “My mother is being a pretentious little bitch! Gives me all the power in the world and then forbids me to do anything! My brother is being a self-initiated little prick! Anyone think he thought he was king! This council constantly going round and round in bloody circles! Undermining My AUTHORITY!” He paced,

“I understand Aegon,” She nodded,

“W-what?” He froze up a moment,

“I understand, that must be very hard. Very conflicting emotionally and politically. I’m sorry you have to feel this way,” She cooed,

He scoffed a moment, “How is it… that you are… as angelic as you are?” he leaned his arms on the back of the chair, “You know just what I need.”

“Years of practice,” She chuckled,

He let a laugh slip, “I was expecting you to tell me how foolish I am, for feeling this way.”

“You are not foolish for feeling this way, your feelings are never foolish.” she affirmed, “It is a complicated time, but you have every right to feel disheartened and upset as everyone else does.”

“You’re too sweet. For a man like me.”

“Perhaps that's why you need me,”

“Perhaps it is,” He chuckled finally his eyes meeting his wife, He smiled at her a moment letting out a rather happy and content sigh, but his eyes flicked down to her bare breast and his teeth caught his bottom lip,

“Ohh! Forgive me, my king, I was feeding the prince.” She blushed pulling her dress back up and tying the small ribbon,

“You have no need to apologise Y/n,” He cooed, “How is he? Baby Baelor?” he asked coming to the crib to loom over his son,

“He’s fine, sleeping well.”

“Thank the gods,” He nodded, “And you?”

“I am very well my king,”

He chuckled and sat down in the chair beside her ottoman, “You have no need to still call me that,”

“I know, I just like to,” she smiled,

“You are far too sweet, for me, for Kings Landing … for Westeros,” He said pressing his forehead to hers and caressing her cheek, “Must you love me so strongly?”

“I must,” She nodded,

“Hum…” He smiled rubbing his thumb on her cheek before softly pressing his lips to capture her own,

The two shared a soft and loving kiss for a few moments before he pulled back,

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” she asked,

His eyes trailed down from her lips, down her neck and lingered on her cleavage, he licked his lip and captured it once more in his teeth, “Mhm,” He growled,

Y/n blushed a moment, “Yes my king,” she nodded moving her hands to unlace the top of her dress tugging the dress down and holding it at her waist exposing both of her bare breasts to him,

He smirked a low growl in his throat as he took his time, looking at her. His eyes trail over every single inch of skin with a look of feist desire. After a while, he moves his hands to stroke her skin running his fingers gently across her, “what happened here?” He asked his thumb briefly brushing over the small mark on her tender breast just above her nipple,

“He bit me.”

“Bit you?” He rasied an eyebrow,

“It’s alright little guy just doesn’t know his strength yet,”

“You poor thing,” he cooed, “It’s a crime to bite something so beautiful,” He cooed fully cupping her breasts in his hands his thumbs softly circling her nipples watching with glee as they perked up and hardened for his attention, He gives her a few tender squeezes before his attention fully moves to her nipples brushing his thumbs over them in little clockwise circles around the pointed peak, only so often brushing the peak itself which always made her whimper, “May I, my queen?”

She blushed, “Of course my king,”

He smiled and moved to kneel on the floor his body between her legs, he laid his head softly on her thigh looking up at her with a joyful smile,

She smiled down at him and stroked his silver hair as he began to pepper her breast with kisses,

He made sure to kiss as much as he could before reaching her nipple, he slowly circled the hard peak with his tongue before lapping at the nipple with the side flat edge of his tounge, forcing a giggle from her, “So sensitive Y/n,” He cooed,

“Well they’ve been working hard feeding you both,” She chuckled,

“True,” He smirked, “Come here my angel,” He cooed taking her other breast in his hand and locking his lips around her nipple latching to it, he circled the nipple with his tounge a few more times before he began to gently and softly suckle,

“There we go, does this please you my king?” She cooed as she stroked his hair,

He nodded as he began to gently drink, making sure not to be too hard or too fast on her tender breast as he slowly suckled and drank her milk, as soon as the milk touched his tongue he began to moan and groan his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut completely, his other hand squeezes and rubs her nipple on the other breast while he enjoys her sweet milk.

“Not too much, or there’ll be none left for Baby Baelon,” She chuckled,

“Hummm” He nodded a little dismissively enjoying himself far too much to stop,

She chuckled and rolled her eyes a little petting his silver hair and caressing his cheek as she held him in her lap letting him drink and play for a good while until finally, he pulled back.

Ageon licked her nipple clean and wiped his mouth, “You make me feel… so peaceful my angel,”

“I’m glad I can, I’m just happy you feel better.”

“I feel much better now,” he cooed nuzzling into her lap, “I love you y/n,”

“I love you too Aegon,” She smiled giving his cheek a soft little kiss, 

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 (𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨) + 𝙘𝙖𝙩

note ✥ dipping my toe in the sandman fandom hello :3 i'd like to write longer fic ngl. hopefully i could do it and post it in my writing blog. alas, this is a practice on morpheus' character tbh

content ✥ slight dark!dream of the endless, he's a cat and a certified stalker c'mon now, a little possessive thoughts, gn!reader

Morpheus thinks it is a little ridiculous to approach you like this. 

For eons, he is never afraid to come up to mortals who have caught his eyes, offering them his hand to guide them back to The Dreaming, to indulge in his love. But he could not say the same, in this case. 

He did try. He knows how The Waking and humans work. He has approached you in a manner that people say is normal, but perhaps his stoic voice and straight stance spook you so badly that you retreat the sun on your lips, hiding away from one such as him. 

He first called you by your full name. 

First mistake.

You had never seen him around and yet he already knows full name. Next, he told you his name—“You may call me Morpheus.” He said and he could only watch in confusion as you stuttered and grabbed the cat you were feeding before jogging away from him in haste. 

Is the name Morpheus too unusual for you? Too ancient? Shall he pick another modern alias that could help him blend in among the humans? Well, his real name does hold a sense of modernity in it—Yes, he will introduce himself to you with it the next day. 

And he waited. Only for you to not appear. 

Perhaps it was just a coincidence. But that is impossible. He has watched you for so long, he knows your routine by heart. He decides to stay back in The Dreaming and orders Matthew to fly his way to The Waking. And there you were, in the same place where he waited for you to appear. 

You were feeding the same stray cat. 

At that moment, Morpheus realized, you have a liking towards cats. You are fond of them. He continues to watch you through the eyes of his raven, seeing how you greet every cat you pass by with a “Hi, meow!” 

Your cute voice does bring a shadow of his rare smile. 

But his goal right now is to pursue you. 

He might have lost his mind in an attempt to pursue love, for he has shifted his physique into a black cat, roaming The Waking, searching for his mortal who has tickled his heart unknowingly. 

There you are—he arrives at the usual spot you would stop by to feed a stray cat. He meows and you immediately squeal in happiness at the sight of a new cat in town. 

“Hey, baby!” You chime as you wiggle your fingers, motioning him to come. Of course he would. He walks up to you, ignoring the glare from the stray cat beside your feet. The stray cat hisses at him once before it continues to eat the food you prepared for it. 

Morpheus looks up at you, meowing once to get your attention. You chuckle, petting his head and giving nice scratches on his chin. Oh, how he wishes you would do this when he is in his truest form, in all its glory. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t have food for you left…” You coo sadly. Morpheus does not care about that either. He continues to circle you, rubbing himself against your legs. Yes, he is marking you—he has long decided that you are his anyway. 

“I’ll get you some food. Can you wait here? Yeah, meow?” You talk to him before standing. You are stepping away and he already follows you, catching up fast. It surprises you a bit that he follows you so eagerly. You sigh with a smile. “Alright, you hungry boy. Come on.” You pick him up, cradling him in your arms as you walk through the busy streets. 

Morpheus snuggles against your body, purring. Ah, how wonderful would it be if he had the chance to be himself and actually buries his face into your chest, like this. 

“You don't look like you're from here, Murphy. Maybe you’re lost…” You say to him and he looks up at you with his adorable eyes. You grin. “Murphy sounds cool to you, yeah? You’re completely black like that one weird guy who approached me. He called himself ‘Morpheus’. You kinda look like him… in a sense.” You giggle before you lift your arms a bit, pressing a hard kiss on Morpheus’ head.

“But you are much cuter, Murphy.” You say with a hardened tone. Cuteness aggression is certainly flooding your mind as you press more kisses on his head. “You’re my good luck charm, okay? When you're near, that weird man is not gonna appear to me.”

“He’s a little scary. He knows my full name, can you believe it, Murphy?” You continue to ramble as your feet keep walking and you seem to have a destination in mind. “I’m afraid I have a stalker… I have to report him to the police but I don't really know who he is.”

Any human agency is no match for me, dear love—Morpheus thinks. 

Listening to your rambles, he only stays quiet, relaxing himself in your embrace—something he wishes you to do to him when the two of you are officially together. You keep telling him stories until you arrive at your apartment. 

“I just got an idea, Murphy. I’ll keep you around for tonight and tomorrow we’re gonna find your owners, yeah?” You give him another kiss and bring him into your humble apartment. You put him on the floor and he starts to explore your place by himself. It is not like he has never been here before. When you are asleep, he comes here through your dream, checking this little life of yours. 

You provide him with simple cat food on a paper plate, along with a bowl of water. Then, you leave him in the living room, going to your bathroom to take a shower. He does not even touch the food—he just patiently waits for you in front of the door, sometimes his paw digs the wooden door. 

He has all the power to get inside, but it is better to not rouse suspicion. He learned that he does need to be patient—which is not that pleasing, but he has all the time in the universe to tickle your heart. 

You sure take a while washing yourself. He gives up staring at the door and starts to pace around your house—beginning from the hallway, to the kitchen, to the living room and finally, he gets into your bedroom by sneaking in through the gap between the door. 

He jumps onto your bed, making himself comfortable and cuddles in your blanket. Soon after, you finally enter your room, only in a towel wrapped around your body. 

“Oh, hey, Murphy. You sure are a smart cat.” You give him some more pets before you go to your wardrobe, dressing yourself in a comfy shirt and a pair of shorts. 

Morpheus watches. Of course he will. He never plans to look away. 

You hop into the bed afterwards, making yourself comfortable. Ah, nap time. Morpheus almost forgets this time you choose out of the hours you have in a day. He moves a bit, giving you the room to lie comfortably. You stroke his fur again as you take your phone, scrolling through your social media. 

He just stays there and moves an inch closer when he senses that your sleep is also coming near. Yawning for the tenth time, you finally put away your phone, adjusting your head on the pillow. “Wanna sleep with me, Murphy? Come, come, kitty, kitty.” 

He meows. He gets closer, curling right beside you as he watches you slowly drifting away. Your soul taps into The Dreaming—he can feel it. He waits until the dream in your mind is forming clearer—until your brain cannot tell what is reality and unreality. 

His black fur dissipates into sand—and the sand multiplies, growing larger and larger in size until it forms a tall figure in a black cloak looming over your vulnerable body.

Morpheus’ bony fingers reach out to you as his void of eyes stare deeply into your dream. His finger slowly touches your head, sliding down your face, caressing your skin ever so slightly. He bends down to bring his face close to you. 

His pale lips touch your skin. And your body tenses, as if there is a change in your slumbering mind. 

Dream a little dream of me, dearest.

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[noemilivv]

hi, I hope you’re having a good day, I’d love to leave a request for Hazbin Hotel.

Could I request Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox and Lucifer (feel free not to do them all if they’re too many) and how they would react when their s/o finds them crying and comforts them and gives them a hug? I’d love some reverse comfort for them they’re my favs, also gn reader pls!

hello!! i’m having a good day, i hope you are as well!! this was a very interesting concept to think about, especially for alastor haha, it may be a bit out of character but i tried my best lol

Warnings: Potentially OOC Alastor, S1 Finale Spoilers, Swear Words, Mentions of Valentino, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Mentions of Injury (Scars, Bruises, Blood, Ect), Mentions of Depression, Mentions of Sex (No Smut)

Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox x Reader (Reverse Comfort)

Alastor

Alastor wasn’t one to express much emotion - other than his signature smile, let alone cry, but you caught him - even if it was barely

He felt like he was on the edge of pure insanity and psychotic, and he, the almighty Radio Demon, would’ve never expected something so little to give him his final push

After the fight between Adam and Alastor, he had lost his cane, his cane gave him almost every ounce of power and control his soul had gained since entering Hell, and he was going insane without it

You watched Alastor silently drift away from the crowded hotel lobby after Lucifer made some petty comment about losing his staff.

Despite that small part of you trying to convince you against it, you followed him.

You trickled behind him slowly to his room, all the way on the other side of the hotel.

He left his door open a crack, and you opened it slightly and stood in the doorway, and there he was.

Alastor’s usually neat and tidy hotel room was now a disaster with blueprints on the floor, you took a glance at them, some looking relatively old and some looked quite fresh, they were sketches and plans for a new staff - although you knew Alastor no longer had the magic the make it.

You hid as he came into your view, he was pacing the room, a very strained smile present on his face as tears pricked in his eyes, as he ran his fingers through his hair, tossing around blueprints and plans and other papers that seemed to be plans for a new staff, searching for a solution to his despair.

Slowly, you approached Alastor, patting him on the back softly before retracting your hand, remembering he doesn’t like to be touched.

He shook his head and sighed, the same drained smile was still present on his face, he looked down at you, and you never noticed the bags under his eyes until now… I mean, you knew he wasn’t one to typically sleep, but he never had bags before…

“I’m sorry, my dear.” He said, fixing his posture, and straightening up his suit. “One might say I’m a bit distraught at the moment. What is it you need?”

“Well.. uh, Al, you looked a bit sad recently, especially after what Lucifer said about your cane, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You said, providing a bashful smile, at the fact that you’d be caught snooping.

“Ah, well, how awfully kind of you, my little doe. Just know, that I’m doing quite alright-” Before Alastor could finish his sentence you engulfed him in a hug, he paused for a moment, before slowly wrapping his arms around the small of your back.

His face was in the crook of your neck, as he sighed, you couldn’t see his face, but you could feel him give a soft smile onto your neck, not a grin, but a smile.

Angel Dust

You knew Angel’s job at the studio was far from easy, and shifts could last several hours at a time, but now? You were starting to worry…

He hadn’t been home in nearly two days. And it was starting to freak you out.

You sat in Angel’s bed in the hotel, snuggled next to Fat Nuggets, he let out a small snort as you cradled him in your arms. “I miss him too, baby.” You muttered, kissing his forehead, tearing up at the thought of all possibilities of what could’ve happened to him.

“Papa will be back home soon.” You nearly whispered, your voice cracking softly, you just wanted to see your boyfriend. The movie that was on in the background began to fade away as you fell to sleep.

You woke up again at about 1am from a slam of the bathroom door that was connected to Angel’s room. You blinked your eyes a few times, groggily, not entirely aware of what was going on until you heard sobbing coming from the bathroom.

You rushed the warm, pink comforter off of you, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed asleep, urgently swinging open the bathroom door, finding Angel wailing, clinging onto the sink, halfway on the floor.

His shirt was off, and a few bruises and scars were visible. He let go of the sink, and slid down the floor, cradling his body.

“Handsome, shit..” You murmured, kneeling down to his level, you put a comforting hand on his knee. “Baby, look at me.”

You requested softly, now using your hand to comb through Angel’s hair, when you didn’t get a response, you used your free hand to tilt his face up to you, and the sight broke you.

His eyes stared into yours, afraid and hurt, there was smeared eyeliner under his eyes that traveled a bit down his face, there was blood coming from his mouth.

You felt tears prick in your eyes, you hated seeing him like this, “My love, can I hold you?”

Angel nodded as his body fell into your arms, you rocked him slowly, shushing his sobs, turning them into a small sniffles.

You pulled away from him to look at him, you wiped the smudged makeup off his face with your thumb, and looked at him. “Wanna talk about it, Angie?”

“You already know the deal by now, it’s just Val..” He said, wiping his eyes, hiccuping before continuing, “I had a rough week, and I wasn’t off-script, and he just said to improv it, and I just fucked it up.. and he, well..” He gestured to the bruises and scars on his body, referencing what happened, giving a dry chuckle, you tensed above him.

“Baby.” You started, cupping his cheeks, pulling him to look at you, “I don’t know how yet, but I will fucking get you out of this, I don’t care who or what I have to go through, but I will fucking get you out of this. No one gets to hurt you and expect to get away with it.” You vowed, as your foreheads connected,

“Sugar, there’s no way out.” Angel murmured. “He’ll find me..” He said barely above a whisper, his voice cracking in fear, your heart ached for him.

“I’ll figure it out, handsome.” You said, pecking his forehead, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Lucifer

You’ve known since before you even started dating that Lucifer had depression, and you knew it hit hard, but you had never really been around to experience that before.

Whenever you could, you always tried to help him out with it, which was a bit hard since he had a tendency to brush it off a lot

It wasn’t until you came home to Luci having a depressive episode where you really got a grip on his depression

You came back to you and Lucifer’s shared home, you had just gotten out of work, and Lucifer was supposed to be at a meeting, key word, supposed to.

As you walked down the hall you heard sniffles coming from your shared bedroom.

You opened the door, it let out a small creak, and you noticed Lucifer curled up on the end of the bed.

There were tissues scattered on the floor on his side of the bed and on his night stand, his clothes that he would’ve worn to his meeting were in a messy pile on the floor, he was in boxers and no shirt, his hair messy, as he sniffled into the pillows, curled up in a thin but fuzzy duck blanket.

“Sweetie, what happened?” You asked sweetly, sitting down next to him at the edge of the bed, rubbing his scalp.

“I-I was gonna go to my m-meeting today, but when I went to get out of bed everything it just felt like I couldn’t do it.. and I started spiraling and I called Charlie and told her to go instead..” Luci explained through sniffles, clutching the blanket closer to his chest.

“Aww, darling.” You cooed lovingly, caressing his cheek, “How about this; I go run a nice, hot bath for the two of us, and then we can cuddle and take a nap, and then try to clean everything up. You can even bring in a few ducks if you want.” Lucifer perked up at your offer, nodding eagerly.

“Okay.” You smiled, chuckling softly, “Just keep your pretty little self here while I go run the water.” You said, getting up to leave, but you turned around as you got to the doorway. “Bubbles or no bubbles?” You asked with a knowing smile.

“…Bubbles, please.”

Velvette had sent you off to go check on Vox, normally he comes out of his security room to check on either her or Valentino, or you, and surprisingly he hadn’t today

You worked for the Vee’s but you were also friends, you were important enough to be basically considered an honorary Vee member, but you were unimportant enough to be cut from big social events and have a fair amount of work dumped on you last minute — And you were an assistant (as well as partner) to Vox

You knocked on the door to Vox’s office room, when no response came from the other side you slowly opened the door, and you saw a very stressed Vox.

His screen was in his hands, letting out small sniffles, but he would glitch here and there as the watery tears shocked his chords.

“Baby, you good?” You asked, standing behind him.

He whipped around, scrambling to wipe away any remaining tears, “Oh- Uh- Yeah- I’m fine.” He muttered, turning back around.

“Were you crying?” You asked, hesitantly, you’d never seen him cry before, other than sex, you both had only been together a few months.

“What? No! I don’t do that shit.” He scoffed, it was clear he was getting defensive, he didn’t like to be caught like this, but he’d rather it be you than someone else.

“Vox…” You pushed, maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did anyway. “Fine. Rough day, okay? Work is stressful as fuck.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, “Do you wanna lay down? Maybe take a nap? And you come back in an hour or two?” You suggested softly, Vox could be stubborn as hell at times, and you weren’t trying to push your luck.

Vox hesitates momentarily, before muttering a small, “I guess…”

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

I liked how wholesome the ending of Dad’s friend Nat getting R pregnant 🥹. Should do a follow up where Nat and R run away together, maybe to somewhere in Russia

(Un)pleasant surprise pt.2

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x dads!bestfriend!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: After telling your father about your pregnancy, things don’t go as planned, so your girlfriend steals you away

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure fluff, teaser to smut

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐀/𝐍: I normally don’t do part 2 but I just love these two so I couldn’t pass. (This was in my inbox for months now)

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Baby” you whined upon being woken up yet another time by your crying little one. “Don’t worry darling I’m already on it” Natasha mumbled slipping our of your shared king sized bed to take our new born into her arms. Seeing you and your daughter, Victoria, together made your heart melt. She hushed the little girl gently cradling her from side to side.

Rolled onto your back admiring the woman of your dreams in the gentle sun of the morning hours. “She’s perfect” Nat mumbled still in an awe of having a little her around. She couldn’t believe her luck in her age she already befriend the thought of never having an offspring herself. Her smile only got wider when the baby grew more tired again eventually falling asleep against her chest.

She settled down again next to you the head of your daughter still at your chest. “She looks just like you” She stated and you sat up again whispering to not wake Victoria up. “Oh please” you laughed “she’s only a couple of months old she just looks like a baby” Nat disagreed pulling you closer to her. “Absolutely not bunny, she might be small but she already has your eyes” She kissed your forehead and you asked yourself if you would ever grow tired of having her around.

If someone had told you a year ago that you’d find your peace in the middle of the woods in Russia, you would’ve thought someone had murdered and buried you there. But no you soon realised thar there was no better past time activity than to watch you toned girlfriend chop wood. Watching how her muscles flex when she sung the axe, watching her sweat in her wifebeater while you sat at the porch with a cup of tea in hands.

Officially you were reported missing in the states, after telling your father about your pregnancy he was furious. He tretend to beat Natasha up if she ever even thought about coming close to you ever again. He didn’t understand your love, he thought Natasha had pressured you into sleeping with her and it made you sick. She was the woman you loved, the mother of your first born baby, the person you loved the most. So when one day she approached you after a long day of arguing with your father you didn’t think twice before agreeing to leave it all behind with you.

“Don’t you have something to do or are you going to gawk the whole day at me” She asked in a teasing tone her hands sliding over the handle of the axe. “Mhm” you hum taking another sip of the mint tea in your hands “just cooking for tonight and that’s it. So I still have enough time to admire you” She chuckled at your response before going back to chopping the wood.

“Tastes delicious” Natasha hummed upon licking over the spoon she had previously dipped into the stew. “It’s not done yet” You huffed in a faked annoyance “but I can’t wait to taste it jus like I can’t wait to taste you” she grinned and got behind me kissing up my neck which forced a small whimper from my throat. “Nat the food is gonna burn” you warned her only to be silenced by her lips on yours.

“Let it” she mumbled against you sweet lips before pushing you up on the kitchen counter. How how you loved her.

:)

[theweepingangelofcas]

All Mine - William Moriarty x Reader

Smutty William drabble go brrrrrr (Inspired by the song Run Baby Run - Dutch Melrose) Word count: 2.1k Content Warning: p.i.v, unprotected smexy times (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos!), praise kink, brief mentions of kidnapping, mild gore in the first like two paragraphs, character death (not William or Reader), tooth rotting fluff, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, possessive William, humorous ending, my man William is a little subby at heart, but he's still a top but a SERVICE TOP ahuigddjaio;hgdp Minors d.n.i

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

You had been taken from him.

Some rich nobleman, furious that his biggest investors were being strategically killed off like flies. He had tracked it down to one man, William Moriarty.

But oh, did he want the man to suffer. So he took the one thing William held dear. His sweet wife, Y/N.

But, it had backfired.

William was more than happy to sink the knife deep into his jugular. He relished in the red oozing from the wound, smiling gleefully.

You were behind him, still tied up and paralyzed in fear on the floor. Your eyes were closed, just like William told you to.

You felt yourself be swept up into his arms, the sensation of his footsteps and his thumping heart reverberating through your entire body.

"You can open your eyes now." He was setting you onto a plush mattress, likely one of your captors guest rooms.

You took in William's face. Concern was etched on his porcelain skin, the corners of his mouth downturned with worry.

"Please, please tell me you're alright. Tell me I got to you in time. Tell me he didn't hurt you." His arms were wrapped around your torso now, gripping you like you would float away if he let go. William's forehead was resting gingerly on your shoulder.

Your own hand came up to cradle his head, "Yes. I'm alright, my beloved. I'm so happy you found me."

He looked back up at you, but your lips were crashing into his before he could speak.

Though surprised, he kissed you back almost immediately. It was if all the adrenaline had turned into want within moments.

He finally had you again. You were finally safe, back in his arms.

The kiss turns deeper. Your hands are now clutching him, fingers tangled in his golden hair. You pull back for a moment, only to see that he's blushing.

"I missed you, Will..."

Gulping, he gasped out, "Oh, my darling... I thought I'd lost you." His hands wandered down, clasping onto your waist, "I thought I'd never get you back. I can't be without you..."

His right hand hovered over your thighs, and he looked up at you for permission.

"Do whatever you want to do. You are my knight in shining armor, after all." You smiled at him. You were exhausted, but something about the relief and elation on his face made you gain a bit of your strength back.

Strong fingers groped your ass with a tenderness only your dear lover could have. You shed your bodice and undersleeve, discarding it somewhere across the room. You didn't want to see it after this. His lips found yours once more, sweet nothings being whispered between every one.

"I finally have you again..."

He mouthed lower, this time along the underside of your jaw.

"I was so scared for you..."

Your neck this time. A mark is being sucked upon your fragile skin, which he soothes with his tongue. Simultaneously, the strings of your corset are being undone. He has very little trouble with it. After all, it was the same corset he had helped you put on days prior. You took a few deep breaths once you were relieved of it, trying to calm your racing heart.

You had missed his scent. The softness of his hair. The smooth feeling of his skin. Everything. You had missed your William.

Finally, your petticoat and overskirt are practically ripped off your body, thrown away with the rest of your clothes. He pulled back to admire you, and you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. Just seeing your unmarred skin gave him more relief than he knew he was capable of feeling.

You saw his hands hesitate, lifted awkwardly above your breasts with apprehension.

"Darling, you won't break me." Rolling your eyes, your hands grabbed his, guiding him to palm your chest. He exhaled shakily, like he was trying to hold himself back.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," Despite his hesitation, he wasn't pulling back, "We should get you home first..."

You stopped him with a finger to his lips, "My dear, if you don't make love to me this instant, I'm walking out the front door nude."

Sanguine eyes widened, his pallor flushing, "O-oh. Alrighty then."

Your back hit the bed with a soft thud, and he was caging you in below him. You could feel his hardness against your hip, but he seemed to pay no mind to that. He was too busy suckling on your right breast to even notice his own arousal. You felt his tongue circle your nipple, before delivering a gentle nip with his teeth. Your other breast was being fondled, while his free hand rubbed comforting circles into your thigh.

Heavy lidded eyes gazed up at your face, taking in your sweet features. All you could do in response was give him a kind smile.

"You're doing so good, William."

His eyes unfocused then, and you could see his mind get all syrupy with desire.

"You saved me. I'm all yours, my love. Forever."

You felt his spare hand go lower, now groping your plush thighs. All the while, he continued his loving assault on your chest. He eventually popped off your skin, panting like he'd run a marathon.

"You had your fill yet?" Your hand covered your mouth as you tried to suppress a giggle.

He shook his head, "Never. But, I feel I've been neglecting the sweetest parts of you..."

His palms found your inner thighs, spreading your legs with a gentleness only he could ever show you. He dove into your sweet core without hesitation, lapping at your wetness like he was a man dying of thirst.

Oh god, did it feel heavenly.

Your fingers wove themselves into his hair, subconsciously pushing him deeper into your heat. He obliged happily, moaning at the taste he had been deprived of. His lips found your clit, sucking it harshly in a way that had you squirming.

"Oh my god, William-! Feels- Feels so good!" You babbled incoherently. After days of fear, it was as though all your senses had been heightened by adrenaline. The feeling of him tasting you was near maddening.

He hummed in response, which only sent more sensations to your poor rosebud. Two fingers were circling your opening, one of them plunging in.

He lifted up for just a moment. You could see his chin shining from your slick.

"Tell me if I'm going too fast, my angel."

Another finger. You subconsciously clenched your thighs around his head at the stretch.

He shushed you tenderly, "Shhh. It's okay. You're doing so good. Just relax into it."

Scissoring his digits apart, you hissed in discomfort, but it was soon drowned out by another moan as he continued his ministrations on your clit. Once you loosened around him, he added another, finally prodding at your most sensitive spots. You felt another rush of slick dribble out of you in response, which he drank up greedily.

"Oh fuck, angel, you're so damn perfect..." He finally lifted up, pinning your hips down with his arm as he continued to finger you, "I swear I'm going to make you forget about everything that's happened here. You won't remember a single bad thing. It will all be replaced by me. I promise."

He stopped his abuse on your sensitive core, finally unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down frantically. Once his underwear was gone, his hard arousal sprung free, bumping against your thigh as he hovered over you.

"Do you think you're ready, my love?" His hands spread your thighs once more. You didn't even realize you had closed them.

Nodding, you huffed out a response, "Yes, my dear. I'm always ready. Please... Please just ruin me."

He tutted, guiding his length to line up with your center, "If that's what my darling wife requests..."

You felt the head of his member push itself into you. Despite his prep earlier, it was still a stretch, and your fingers found purchase in his back.

"I'll ruin you as much as you want, love."

He slammed the rest of his length into you, and you nearly screamed his name as he pounded your cervix head on. Despite it only being days since you two last made love, he still felt absolutely massive inside you. You don't think you'll ever get used to it.

But, you're okay with it. Especially with how good he could hit your g-spot with every thrust.

One arm was used to keep himself steady on the bed, the other was fondling your breasts again, "Look at you. All mine..." His mouth went to your collar, nipping at your sensitive skin, "No one will take you from me ever again. No one- No one!"

A harder bite. You knew you'd be covered in marks after this.

Your hands grasped his suit tie, "Fuck, please my love, take your shirt off. Please."

He grunted, stripping off his vest and tie, still pounding into you with vigor. Your fingers shakily unbuttoned his dress shirt, discarding it as well. With him finally being fully nude, your nails dug into his back, only spurring him on to continue destroying you.

It was like his hardness was carving out a space inside of you, ruining you for anyone besides him. Fitting together perfectly, like it was always meant to be like this. Like it was always supposed to be you and your sweet William, together, against the rest of the world.

You gasped out curses as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing gentle circles in the way he knew you loved. It like your very blood was on fire, screaming out for more. You wanted every bit of pleasure and relief he could give to you. Luckily, he was happy to give it.

"Fuck, Will- I'm so close-!" You buried your head into his shoulder, biting back moans and curses.

You could feel him nod above you, "I know, my dear. Don't be afraid. Cum for me. Let go."

With a final harsh pinch on your clit, you felt yourself shatter apart like fragile glass.

Your vision nearly whited out, and you could hear high pitched moaning of his name. It took you a second to realize that the moaning was yours. Your nails felt something warm beneath them, and you could faintly register that you had clawed him so hard you had drawn a bit of blood. But he didn't seem to care, still fucking you through your high.

"Y/n, I'm getting close too..." He groaned, trying not to lose his mind at the feeling of you clenching around him.

"Inside-! Cum inside, please, William!" You were near delirious at this point. Normally, both of you were so cautious about letting him cum inside. It was risky, after all. But right now, after he had finally saved you? Now that you were safe in his arms again? You couldn't find yourself to give a damn about any risks.

He was panting into your skin, mouthing at your neck, "Oh my god- Are you sure? Y/n, you have to tell me you're sure-" He broke off with a moan, and one of his hands gripped your side for dear life.

"Yes! Fuck yes!" you were wailing his name, clinging onto him. Clinging onto your beloved darling.

"Oh fuck-! I'm gonna cum. Y/n, I'm gonna cum-!"

He bit down on your shoulder as he came, and it was as though fireworks were exploding inside his head. Spurts of hot cum shot into you, and you could vaguely feel the warmth spread inside. He was grunting, groaning out your name and curses you couldn't quite understand. Vaguely, you could feel your shoulder ache where he had bit you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Finally, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. His cloudy eyes searched your face, "Are you alright still, my love? I- I didn't mean to go so rough..." He sheepishly avoided your eyes, instead choosing to gaze down at your chest.

"You dare ask me that after we literally just made love? Amazingly so?" You laughed, hands coming up to cradle his face. You could see a tint of red on your fingertips, and you grimaced, "I didn't mean to go so rough either..."

He shook his head, "Nonsense. I barely even felt that..." Sighing, his head resting upon your bosom, "Goodness, the others are probably looking for us now. I had told Fred to bring you your pajamas..."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, and you both gasped. Scrambling to cover you, William called out, "Fred? Is that you?"

A moment of silence, before a quiet voice continued, "Yes, Lord Moriarty. I brought Y/n's nightgown. Is she there with you? May I come in?"

"NO!" You both shouted, and you could faintly hear Moran outside the door as well, trying to cover his laughter.

"Do'ya want us to just leave her stuff outside here then? Y'can come and grab it when you need it?" Moran was speaking now, his gruff voice light with humor, "I take it you two are... Busy?"

Your face flushed, but your husband barely seemed to care. He was just happy to have you back.

"Yes, Mr. Moran. I'll come collect it in a minute. You two may take your leave and wait in the carriage, if you need."

He looked back at you, taking in your half covered figure on last time before kissing your cheek.

"So, my love, shall we head home?"

[neoplatinum]

i promise to love you forevermore - part 2 | minatozaki sana

summary: the minatozaki group is far bigger than you expected

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 3.2k

(series masterlist)

"the minatozaki's request your presence at the 2024 annual ball." you say to yourself as your fingers run through the beautifully golden lettering imprinted on thick cardstock. lined with the minatozaki family crest pressed at the bottom. you turn the invite in your hand, it's been so long since you've attended the annual ball. but now, as a minatozaki, your presence is expected.

ever since you married sana, your life has gotten busier, often attending the conglomerate events as a figurehead for the family. leading the discussions on expansions of the family's power. sana often wants to ditch the events altogether, claimed they were too stuffy and business-y.

"baby, come here." sana complains, she often gets like this. soft with want, attention seeking and wishing for your comfort even if you're in the same room together.

"sana sweetheart, look at this." you walk towards her across the wooden floor, invitation still in hand. you pass it to her, and her eyes groan at the sight.

"is it already time?" she checks the event date.

"i thought you enjoyed the annual ball." you comment.

"i liked them when i was five and playing princess, now i feel like a zoo animal at the events." she says and leans onto your body. using it to hold up her bodyweight.

"i see, but we must go."

"yes. mother will have my head if i miss one."

"hey, at least i'll be there with you this year." you offer, pushing her down to massage her shoulders. "how does that feel?"

"mm, good, thank you darling." sana rewards you with a quick kiss. and then you hear the sound of your son wailing, in his bassinet. you walk up to him, picking him up and bouncing him in your arms.

"is he hungry?"

"no," you check his diaper, "stinky." you take the baby to the changing station. expertly changing his diapers and putting some baby powder, and then shoving him in sana's face.

he babbles and tries reaching out to sana, small grabby hands trying to pull at sana's face.

"aww baby, you are too cute!" sana snuggles into haruto, she claims that babies have a special 'baby' scent, one that makes them so adorable.

"oh also, you'll meet my cousins. the branch families." you're confused what she means.

"branch families?"

"yeah the minatozaki is the main family, but we also have branch families." she caresses haruto, giving him forehead kisses and he continues to babble. you would do anything for them.

you grab sana's face, cradling her jaw as you pull her into a sweet kiss. her eyes are a little unfocused after, you rocked her world.

"what was that for?"

"for being perfectly you." you reply, slipping on your shoes.

--

being escorted by bodygaurds feels a little more reasonable, as you have haruto in your arms. him playing with the collar of your shirt, tugging on it as he hugs you. sana walking by your side and being followed by a team of people that would lay down their life for you.

"sana." you start, "you ready?"

she nods, but you can feel the hesitation from a mile away, you squeeze her hand for support. and walk through the giant wooden doors. the chatter of the ball quiets with the entrance of the new minatozaki head family, and the first heir, haruto minatozaki.

you're dressed in a traditional kimono, hair gelled and pressed so stiffly. sana is in her traditional kimono as well, hair done up with beautifully golden spear keeping it together. you think she looks like a goddess like this.

the minatozaki family crest displayed in stitching on the back of both your kimonos, and little haruto's as well. the crowd claps at the sight of you three, and sana bows deeply. you do the same as well. then the crowd goes back to their discussions.

in the corner you see two women, they blend into the background, but their eyes are trained on you like hawks. you wouldn't have spotted them if it weren't for sana.

"these are my cousins: momo and mina." and you look at the two woman, they don't give you a smile even though you have your hand extended and head bowed deep.

"nice to meet you." its short and curt, like a military leader. momo shakes your hand, and you try not to wince at the hand strength. you try your best to shake it back.

mina is more gentle with her hand shaking, but her eyes don't convey that, eyes of a predator watching their prey.

then they spot small haruto's arms stretched out towards them. and their eyes light up, momo picking up your son to bounce him around.

the two women leave to mingle with other guests, showing off your son. and you grab your hand, massaging it from being crushed by momo's hand.

"momo is, very strong." you say to sana, and she laughs.

"momo and mina trained to be soldiers for the family. so that's probably why, but also i'm the youngest and the only heir. so they're protective." it makes sense, the main family didn't have sana until later. so sana's the cherished sole her of the minatozaki main family.

she loops her arms around yours and drags you away. "don't worry about haruto, he's in good hands." she whispers to you as you search for him through the crowds.

"hello mother." sana bows at the sight of her mother, you bow too.

"glad to see you both, i think i saw haruto with momo earlier." she comments, and you see a genuine smile as she makes a beeline for her grandchild.

"i'm starting to think she loves haruto more than me." sana pouts at the idea, you just laugh and reassure her that all parents are like that. sana gets whisked away by a nosy aunt, and even though she whispers "help me!" over her shoulder, you just laugh and let her get dragged away.

suddenly you feel a chill up your spine, and you turn around to see mr. seki walk up to you.

"great to see you!" that devilish smile never fails to make you shudder

"likewise, mr. seki, how are you enjoying the ball?" you ask politely. ever since he found out you were to be married to a minatozaki: he's gotten more and more persistent with his requests for a major bonus.

"it's lovely, the minatozaki's always know how to host an event." he starts, a deep bellow of a laugh, commenting on the grandeur of the hall. you nod along in agreement, but mostly to move this conversation along.

"i wanted to speak to you about something." his demeanor completely changes, he stands stiffly, nearly towering over you.

"in private?"

"yes, in private." with a signal his security starts moving with him, and you follow behind, being taken away from the main hall.

--

"please have a seat." mr. seki points to the couch. you sit down, ready to hear him lecture about seniority and the importance of shareholders.

but then he drops the biggest bomb on you.

"did i ever congratulate you on your marriage?" he starts.

"oh no need for all that, i'm sure it's very much implied." you offer.

"my apologies, let me present to you a wedding gift. see here," and on the table are photos of sana seen outside drunk and making out with various women and men. even with the dark and grainy zooms you recognize your wife. "is your wife, cheating behind your back. were you aware of this?"

"mr. seki, these are huge accusations against my wife." you lean in, eyes boring into his. he smiles at the sight, your interest is peaked.

"of course, we would never want groundless accusations." he then takes out another set of photos, much clearer and front and center is a photo of sana, undeniably her. even with her hair tossed back and her neck exposed. "so tell me, do you recognize your wife in the photo?"

he sits back as he tosses another drink. you stare at him, eyes wide and anger boiling all over. you feel yourself buzzing like a dog ready to bite.

"well?"

"mr. seki, i suggest that you keep my wife out of your mouth if you'd like to keep your tongue." you stand up, and his security team rises out of their seat, hands on their guns.

"oh i will, if she keeps her tongue out of other people's tongues. you know the minatozaki would never let this be a headline. they'd probably kill me for leaking this actually. but as a concerned uncle, i thought you should know. " his eyes dancing playfully, like he's got you in your clutches.

"mr. seki, watch your tone."

"or what?" his security force steps up.

"would you really like to find out?" you toss a knife right by his ear, nearly clipping it. the men are ready to launch at you, but he puts his fist up, stopping them. he sits up straight, getting up and buckling his blazer.

"i'll have you know something, you could kill me ten times over, but it'll never erase the fact that she's cheating on you." he smirks, patting you on your shoulder, he leaves the room.

leaving you with a table full of photos of sana, you stare at it, tucking it away into your pocket.

--

the thought sits in your head for weeks, days spent in a daze at the sight of sana. she's still as bubbly as ever, but you can't help but let the green monster grow ten-fold in your chest.

every morning at lunch you stare at her, every night at dinner you stare at her. whenever she's at her vanity you stare at her.

what else is she hiding?

so against your better judgement, you hire a private investigator. one that'll tail sana for information. track all her patterns and behaviors, who she's seeing, when she's seeing them, for how long and most importantly why she's seeing them.

you have her tailed for weeks, until it comes back to bite you in the ass.

you're busy bouncing haruto on your lap, letting him play with his toy as he babbles. he reaches out and takes your pen out of your breast pocket. chewing on it, biting into the steel body.

"haruto no! that's my pen, don't bite on that." you take the metal pen out of his mouth, and when he looks like he wants to cry, you shove his toy back in his face. and like that he's distracted again.

"emi, please take haruto." sana's voice is sudden, you didn't even hear her walk in.

emi walks in quickly, grabbing haruto out of your hold and walking out, closing the door behind her.

sana walks up to the desk, arms crossed, jaw tensed and eyes glowering at you. "do you have something to tell me?"

"sana? no i don't."

"let me ask you that one more time: do you have something to tell me?" she leans forward against the desk, face inches apart.

"sana, what's going on?"

"that's what i want to know." she walks around the desk, right next to you. "i was out with momo and mina earlier, and momo found someone tailing us. they both nearly beat him to death, and he coughed up your name, you mind telling me why he's tailing us?"

"sana, please."

"please what?" she cocks an eyebrow, "i don't appreciate being followed."

"i...i got a tip that you were...seeing other people." you explain, "i needed to know for myself."

"so instead of asking me, you hire someone to tail me, all to see if im cheating?" she's quick on her feet, just like her mother. "i swear i will rain hellfire on you if you don't answer me right now!"

"yes, i did. i had to know."

she paces back and forth, finger in between her teeth.

"why do you care?" sana questions you.

"i do. of course i do." you respond. its honest, although you aren't explaining the reason in full.

her eyes are ablaze, challenging you. "why?"

you get up, needing to make a little distance from sana. she's just so intimidating when she's mad. just like her mother.

"i wanted to know because he wanted to leak it to the press." and that's not a lie, but it's also not the main reason right now.

"are you serious?" she throws the pile of photos onto the floor, the ones you handed to the private investigator. they're stained with blood, probably his if you had to guess.

"yes."

"well you don't have to worry. the minatozaki group owns all the media outlets." she sigh, frustrated at you. "i'm not cheating."

she walks right out of your study, making a beeline to the grand staircase. you chase right after her on her tail. with her dodging all your questions. she enters the bedroom and throws two big luggages on the bed.

"where are you going?"

"packing my bags, or should i tell that to your PI too." she bites out, her voice venomous and her movements rushed. she's tossing all her clothes in the suitcase, not bothering to fold them.

"no need, i'm sorry sana. for sending a PI after you." you try and calm her down, standing in front of her suitcase.

"is that all?" she stops with a dress in one hand.

"and for accusing you of cheating." you continue. she side steps you, continuing to shove clothes into her suitcase. and you stand there, unsure of what to do. sana's never left so suddenly.

"sana please don't leave, we can talk this out!" you urge her, as the butlers descend down the stairs with her luggages in hand.

"what is there to talk about, you don't trust me enough so you had to send someone to monitor me." she pushes a finger into your chest.

sana leaves for weeks. you feel yourself get antsy when she doesn't reply to your calls or messages, unless they're related to haruto. so under that guise you offer to drop off some toys for haruto, but mostly to corner sana so she'll hear you out.

--

with the infrequent visits to the main minatozaki estate, you still always feel lost inside. the large main estate is surrounded by minor estates. tall cement walls lining the the acres of land away from the prying eyes of the public. you sit in a minatozaki black sedan, flowers in hand and a bag of haruto's toys in the other.

being reclined in polished leather seat, the car begins rolling forward into a side road, disguised behind rows of moving trees and a thick wall that sinks into the ground.

you being to really notice the size of the minatozaki power. outside are men and women all dressed in all black, ear pieces and sunglasses. all with that signature bowl cut hair, you gulp at the sight. they all eye your car as you roll into the outdoor garage.

you're pat down, taking out all your items from your jacket. they even begin inspecting the toys and flowers in your hand. you sigh as you watch them whisper to each other in coded language. and then a wooden door open, disguised as a panel of the wall, and out steps momo and mina.

both of them eyeing you with the same look they gave you at the ball.

"sana's waiting." momo begins to walk, meanwhile mina waits for you, impatiently. you pick up the pace walking through the tunnel, large stone slabs under your feet, and glass displaying the lush green open gardens in the minatozaki estate.

they don't utter another word, rhythmic measured steps as they fall into the same tempo with each other. measured steps even if they are different heights. you try and match their step, nearly tripping, but you catch yourself.

then you see her, far away, in a deep brown wooden gazebo, intricate japanese carpentry displaying the minatozaki crests on the panels, you quicken your step to get to her, but momo places a hand to stop you.

"you may not know much about us," momo nods to mina and she nods too, "but we know everything about you. one wrong move and it'll be like you never existed. don't underestimate the minatozaki power."

then the two women disappear, falling in line with the other security groups that are circulating the estate. you fix your tie, a little intimidated by the watching eyes, every direction you look there's someone staring you down.

you walk up the wooden steps into the gazebo, sana looking away and a tea cup in hand.

"hello, sana."

"haruto's toys?" her hand is extended.

"they're here, in this bag." you hand her the bag, and she looks into it, nodding to you before dismissing you.

"wait sana, please, could you let me explain myself?" you sit down next to her, her eyes faraway.

"you explained yourself pretty clear last time." she says, taking a sip of her tea, setting the cup onto a tray.

"i don't think i did, please let me explain myself." she doesn't say anything. eyes trained on that lone duck in the pond.

"i, for a very very stupid reason, wanted to tail you. because it's harder to open the can of worms of who we are to each other. we married out of convenience, but to me, you are my wife, my only love. i needed to know if you see me the same way. or am i still someone you married for convenience?"

sana stares at you, more specifically the flowers you brought, her favorite. and the wedding band you still keep on your finger.

"then let me make this very clear. you are mine. and i am yours. there is no one else in the picture." she stands up, handing you a usb stick, "i found out your anonymous tip, mr. shugo seki of seki industries, 62, married with two children and five grandchildren. four mistresses and six children out of wedlock. $12 million in gambling debt. he's been taken care of."

she takes the flowers from your hand, sniffing them and smiling at it, before returning back to her authoritative demeanor.

"and i'll explain myself once, those photos you were presented were in the very early stages of our marriage, long before haruto. i haven't been with anyone but you for a very long time. now tell me, is that clear enough?"

"no, i think you made it very clear." you flip the usb stick in your hand, "what is in this?"

"the original raw files of the photos. if you want the dates for proof, it's all in there." she says, letting you continue to flip it around in between your fingers.

you toss it into the pond.

"don't need the proof?"

"no, why should i?" you smile at her.

"let me also make it clear, if i catch you, with anyone, i will behead you myself; do not forget it's until death do us part." she tugs you close, whispering it into your ear and you shudder. grabbing your tie, and smashing her lips against yours. pulling away with a smirk.

you don't doubt for a second she will. "understood."

"good, haruto will be up in an hour," she grabs your hand, and tugs you along the wooden bridge to the main house. "you better make it up to me before then, okay?"

you blush at that but nod, "yes, mrs. minatozaki."

--

a/n: if sana talked to me like that 😍😍😍😍 misamo in the house and we all cheered! the idea for branch families is inspired by naruto LOL (which i actually believe is true to historical japanese family systems). and a thank you to @footzanginamaurin @blaymine @d3viant0n3 @moonpheus @im--yoong and also the anon who requested for a part 2!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[malarign]

two cats in love

IN WHICH? you get emotional and jay is here to brighten your mood!

INCLUDES! jay x gn!reader / fluff, tint of angst / established relationship, crying, jay being a total sweetheart / 378 words

Seeing you curled up on the couch crying uncontrollably was not something Jay expected to see once he’s back home. Millions of possible scenarios crossed his mind. Argument with your close friend? That one elderly lady selling roses around the corner? Your favourite character dying in the show you started binge watching yesterday?

„Do you think we’ll find each other in our next lives?” you managed to say between your sobs and hiccups once he kneeled in front of you.

Your question made him try really hard not to smile, especially since you were obviously very upset about the idea of losing each other. But the innocence of it made it really hard.

„What made you think we wouldn’t?” he asked, caressing your cheek comfortingly.

„There’s literally so many people in the world, what if you find someone better?”

Jay sent you one of those looks. „That’s literally impossible, baby. I won't stop searching for you.”

You fell silent for a while, trying to calm down as much as you can. Your breath got even and you patted the spot next to you. Sitting down he cradled you in his arms, his warmth bringing you peace you craved ever since that distressing thought came to your mind.

„What made you think like that?” he asked, breaking the silence.

„I saw two cats and just started overthinking. Like, you know, whether they were friends in their past lives or maybe lovers in the next one?” you looked up at him and saw endearment in his eyes.

„Your thought process is truly amazing,” he chuckled and you playfully hit his arm. „On a more serious note, I think it’s gonna be us in our next lives.”

„You think so?” Jay had no idea his words would bring so much hope to you.

„Yeah, just think about it. We wouldn’t have to worry about paying taxes and rent. No school, no jobs, just the two of us walking around and getting pats from strangers.”

You giggled at how well he knew you and your antics — you really did spend a solid 10 minutes giving them pats on their heads and scratches behind their ears. Though a very sudden and worrying thought made you face him seriously. „What if they castrate you?”

a/n trying out a new format for my posts :)) there’s not much of a difference but lmk which one you prefer!