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ravenromanova · 1 year ago

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Nowhere to run

Pairings: Vamp Natasha x Female reader

Warnings: 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mentions of blood, Blood kink, Biting kink, Smacking, Oral, Fingering, Double ended dildo, Vibrator use, Slight cnc DO NOT READ IF YOUR UNDER 18!!!!

Summary: You hide and she seeks

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

You ran as fast as you could through the trees of the woods you stumbled upon. The wind was harsh against your skin as you sped through. Your breath was short and it was getting harder and harder to breathe but you knew you couldn’t stop. She was close and you could feel it you just didn’t know where she was.

A twig snapped in the distance and your heart dropped at the sound. You couldn’t see very much since the trees blocked the moonlight so you were essentially blind. But luckily for her she was able to see in the dark. She was waiting for you to be at your most vulnerable, she wanted you out of breath, desperate and needy.

She crept around the trees as you try to find shelter behind an oak tree. A smile crosses her face as she watches your movements. You were out of breath hunched over as you gasp for air by the tree. You can hear footsteps crunching leaves behind you but you have no energy to run.

The woman stalks up behind you and puts her hands around you waist firmly. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her breath on your neck.

“i told you id find you kotenok” She whispered against your ear as she presses your back against the tree. You’re forced to look at her as she grabs your chin and tilts your head back. You knew from the look in her eyes that’s you were fucked. Her eyes went red and you could see the black veins surrounding them, her smile was as devilish as it was wide as she looked at you.

“You have nowhere to run now little one you’re mine” And with that you feel all your resolve leave your body. She smiles once she sees you give into her.

“I’m yours” You whisper to the redhead with a doe eyed look. Natasha loses all control when the words leave your lips. She is quick to take you back to her cabin. The woman picks you up bridal style and uses her vamp speed to get you to the cabin.

You squeal and giggle once you see how eager she is to take full advantage of you. She kicks the cabin door open and rushes you both inside the master bedroom. Once she gets you two to the room she uses all her strength and throws you on the bed. You look at her with lust in your eyes as she gets all the supplies she needs to ruin you.

“You’re my toy tonight. You will do everything i ask of you. Understood?” She asks as she towers over you at the edge of the bed. Not being able to form words you opt to just nod your head and she hums in satisfaction. The next moments are a blur as she rids you both of your clothing and sits in front of you.

Natasha is quick to tie your hands to the headboard along with tying your feet to the ends of the bed. She then slowly crawls up your body and you can see that her once green eyes are fully blown.

“Tell me how much you want me” She commands as she starts to attack your neck and not only leaves hickeys but leaves bite marks. Your breath hitches in your throat as she speaks and even though you know she’s dominant right now you can see her desperation.

“I want you so bad mommy. Please please please ruin me” You beg pulling at your restraints and groaning when you realize you aren’t able to touch her.

She doesn’t waste any time as she quickly takes on of your nipples in her mouth and starts sucking. You moan loudly at the sensation of her mouth on one of your tits and her hand on the other. Natasha moves to the other nipple giving it the same attention as the other as you let out a satisfied groan.

After she has had her fill of your tits she starts slowly kissing and biting down your body drawing a little blood. She licks over the bite marks to soothe them before she came face to face with your pussy. She takes a second to admire your bare body and pussy before giving it a small kiss. Natasha groans as you buck your hips against her lips as she kisses you.

“So desperate” She comments before she spreads your lips and attaches hers to your clit. You buck your hips and moan as she starts sucking on your clit like a woman starved. Natasha shoves her tongue into your pussy and groans once she feels how tight you are. She continues to lick from your hole to your clit in fast motions and you scream in response.

“I-I’m gonna cum p-please can i cum?” You asks desperately as she picks up the pace and starts sucking faster. She doesn’t respond just nods at your question since she’s too wrapped up in how you taste to speak. That’s when you feel the coil in your stomach snap and you cum all over her face and tongue with a scream. The redhead licks you clean with a smile on her face before she continues with her plans for the night.

“Such a good and sweet girl” She praises as she licks her fingers and crawls back up your body. Once she reaches your stomach she straddles your thighs and runs her hands all over your body.

“So perfect, So soft, So sweet, So pretty” She says as she looks at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Who knew a big bad vampire could love someone this much? definitely not you but you relish in her love anyway.

“You know i love you right? You know you’re everything to me right?” She asks before she pecks your lips slightly.

“Yes mommy i know you love me, I love you too” You say bashfully at the woman you love more than anything.

“Good girl” She praises again and decides to untie you so you can finally touch her. And once you’re free your hands quickly make way to her hips and you give them a soft squeeze. You two spend a few moments in a heated make out before Natasha grows eager and needs more of you.

She gets up off of you despite you making grabby hands for her to come back. When she comes back she has your favorite double ended dildo and vibrator in her hand. Your eyes light up and the toys as she walks back over to you and straddles you yet again. She takes her time playing with you by running her hands up and down your soft skin. Her eyes flicker from red to green as her hunger for you grows. You can see her fangs pop out and her tongue run across them in anticipation.

“You can feed on me- it’s okay” You say softly as you run your thumb over the black veins under her eyes. Natasha stares at you with bewilderment for a minute processing what you said. She’s never actually fed on you before, Sure she will bite you here and there nut she’s never fed. The reason being that she doesn’t want to hurt you, She loves you, Your her precious girl and she doesn’t want you to be in pain.

Her eye flicker upwards to yours as if she’s silently asking for more permission.

“I trust you- if anything i’ve kinda been wanting you too” You admit shyly and that’s what sells it for her. She settles herself fully on your hips before leaning down and brushing your hair away from your neck. It takes her a moment before she does anything because she has to reel herself in. She finally decides to let her fangs out and sink them into your neck.

“Oh fuck-“ You moan at the sensation you had expected it to hurt but in reality it feels so fucking good. She takes her time as she slowly drinks the crimson liquid from your veins. Nothing Natasha had ever tasted before had been as good as how you taste. She keeps going for a minute or two and in those moments you are in pure bliss. Your fingers tangle themselves in her hair and you moan loudly as she takes her fangs out.

“You taste better than the finest wine in the world Dekta” She praises before she licks the mark to soothe it. The sensation is enough to make you finish right then and there but you hold out.

“Please fuck me Vladelets” (master) The need in your voice makes the older woman smile. She simply nods and grabs the strap and brings one side to your lips. You immediately know what she wants you to do so you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. She then takes the bright red strap and smacks it against your tongue a few times before you start sucking. You bring it as far as you can in your mouth and start bobbing your head getting it nice and wet for her.

Natasha lets you go at it for a minute before pulling it out of your mouth and replacing it with the other side. You eagerly repeat your previous actions and get the other side wet. Once she’s satisfied with how wet it is she climbs down your body to your pussy. She rubs the tip of one side up and down your pretty folds before she slowly inserts it into you in a swift motion.

You let out a loud moan once the strap is in and the redhead smiles sinfully before she props your knees up. You give her a questioning look as she places herself on top of your pussy. She takes the other side of the dildo and inserts it into herself and grinds her hips against yours.

“Fuck yes-“ Her moan comes out breathy as she feels the tip hit her g-spot. The both of you find your hands on each others hips as you both start grinding against each other. Natashas head falls back as she lets out a guttural moan at the moment unfolding in front of her.

“F-Feels s-so g-good” You stutter out when she picks up her pace and thrusts into you onsite and of grinding against you. Natasha is quick to grab the vibrator and place it in between you two right on your clits.

“OH FUCK!” The both of you scream in unison when she turns it onto the highest setting. She picks up the pace of her thrusts and decides to just ruin you.

“You’re so pretty dekta, look at you a complete mess for me so fucking pretty” She grunts out and her grip on your thigh becomes tighter. She’s so close and she can tell you are to by the way you’re breathing.

“Fuck i’m gonna cum baby-please please make me cum-Oh fuck!” You scream as your orgasm comes ripping through you and you squirt all over the redhead. When she feels your warm juices hit her skin that’s when she comes undone and fucks you both through her orgasm.

“Holy fucking shit” She breathes out as she finally stops thrusting and takes a second to breathe, before turning off the vibrator and taking the toy of of you both. You groan at the loss of the strap but quickly forget about it as Natasha lays down next to you.

“That was amazing” The words barley come out above a whisper as they fall from your lips. The older woman looks at you before pulling you to lay on her chest.

“I told you i could make hide and seek fun” She jokes as she runs her fingers through your hair and smiles.

“Yea i guess you’re right” You chuckle in agreement before you yawn and nuzzle into her chest and listen to her heartbeat.

“I gotta clean you up dekta” She says as she tries to move you but you tell her that you both can just shower tomorrow that you dont wanna move. Natasha lets out a soft laugh at your antics before she pulls the blanket over the both of you and holds you tight.

“Goodnight my sweet girl” She whispers as she leaves a kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight my little vamp” You mumble as you drift off into one of the best night sleeps of your life.

~the end~

no one has permission to translate or repost my work on other cites

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itsabouttimex2 · 5 months ago

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I just wanted to ask if you have posted these oneshots on Ao3 as i've found a fic posting them and wanted to check its actually you

(That’s me, alright! I went ahead and changed my name there to match my Tumblr! Thank you very much for checking in with me on this! Also, since we’re here… I’ll go ahead and drop a fluff fic I only uploaded to AO3! Also, this isn’t my usual content, so I’m unfamiliar with proper tags- if there’s one you’d like added, please tell me!)

Hands-On Reunion

Macaque is sure that he’ll end up killing Wukong one of these days, absolutely. He’d find a reason (which would probably be very easy), and then he’d find a way (which would probably take a few hundred years).

And since he’s already got a reason right here and right now, Macaque can get to finding his method of execution all the sooner.

Well, once Wukong is done having his fun.

“Sorry, bud!” The Great Sage says, his fingers dancing over Macaque’s ribs. The ebon monkey writhes under the teasing touch, gnashing his teeth in anger and lashing his tail about. “But we both know you’ve earned this a few times over, huh?”

Okay, so maybe he was occasionally taking food from Wukong’s kitchen. And occasionally stealing away his little monkeys for naps and company. And occasionally entertaining himself with his rival’s console whenever the Great Sage was out.

…very frequently, actually.

So frequently, in fact, that he had gotten relaxed, complacent. His shenanigans were soon performed lazily, openly- a sort of self-brag that swelled Macaque’s confidence.

He just hadn’t expected to get caught pilfering snacks as he carried his haul through the forest.

Nor had he expected that Wukong had readied a method of “punishing” him for it.

“D-damn you! Get your hands off of me, you oversized ape! Thihihihis isn’t funny!”

“What was that, bud? I couldn’t understand! Do you mean… this?!” Wukong jokingly asks, digging his fingers into Macaque’s armpits as the ebon demon squeals. “Or this?!” The ginger follows up, wiggling his digits tortuously fast.

“Stohohohohohop! Ahahaha, Wukoooong! Knock- knock it off, you big brute!”

Both of the hair clones around Macaque chitter, holding his sable-furred limbs down as their master continues to relentlessly tickle him. One even snags his shoes and peels them away, leading Wukong to probe the now defenseless feet with his tail- only drawing louder squeals and giggles from Macaque.

The Great Sage pauses and draws back, but not to give Macaque a reprieve. Instead, he plucks out a two more hairs, blowing life into them with a single breath.

Immediately is the shadow demon besieged, his ribs and feet now being toyed with by two sets of hands each.

“You’re gohohohoing to regret this, Wukong! I swear, I’ll-“

Macaque gasps and cuts short his words when Wukong approaches from behind, lightly placing one hand on either side of his skull.

“No, Wukong, c’mon, plehehehehease! Not my ears, anywhere but my ears! I’ll be good- eeeek!”

To the Monkey King’s utter delight, his assault on Macaque’s many ears doesn’t bring forth laughter- but hooting. The umbrakinetic squirms wildly against his restraints, chittering and squealing in a primal show of lost control.

As he thrashes about in an attempt to displace the clones, Macaque kicks his feet and shrieks, hooting out threat after threat.

“Aww, bud! You sound just like a baby monkey, don’t you? That’s soooo cute!”

He’s met only with further gasps and hooting, Macaque having fully lost himself under the king’s playful assault. It’s also impossible to miss how his face reddens under the teasing, then twists back into anger-

And suddenly, purple smoke unfurls from all corners of Macaque, swelling through the air and forming into… his war form, standing tall but hunched as Macaque tried to recover from his breathless fits of laughter.

“N-nice…,” a pause, as Macaque composes himself enough to put on a dramatic air, “nice try, Wukong! But no one gets the better of me. How about we turn the tables and give you a taste of your own medicine?!

Shadowy tendrils rise smoothly from the ground, lashing around as they try to snag at Wukong’s ankles. With the great amount and speed at which they move, it’s likely they would’ve been able to catch him-

If Wukong hadn’t been ready for this moment, that is. He chuckles and casually backhands one tendril, cutting through it with sheer might. Then, using another few as a balance beam, the Monkey King swings himself into the air, pushing higher and higher as he springs off the cold constructions of darkness.

And once he’s high enough, a golden sphere of light bubbles around him- heralding his own war form, aureate and multi-armed. Macaque has precisely three seconds to register what he’s brought upon himself by upping the ante, and tries by the fourth to run.

Wukong catches him on the fifth, beginning to wrestle his rival of many centuries to the ground. Where they fall the ground cracks and splits open, deep trenches illuminated only by the Monkey King’s light.

With six arms to Macaque’s two, the Great Sage takes a quick win, pinning the sable simian’s shifted form to the ground.

“Wukong,” he bellows through the shadows, fear in his voice at the upcoming assault. “Don’t you dare-“

Laughter, loud and deep, roaring from a giant mouth. The trees shake as ponds ripple, both disturbed to their bottoms by the howling shadow monkey.

His arms are pinned up by two of Wukong’s own, the other four pushing and prodding and punching all across his torso and ribs- and again does the king’s tail find his feet, leaving Macaque squealing even louder.

Then Wukong draws a breath inwards, exhaling it across three of Macaque’s ears-

Prompting another massive fit of simian hooting, the sable demon left to kick and chitter wildly. Unfortunately for him, the thrashing did nothing to waver Wukong’s relentless hands- and only really shifted him further into a disadvantageous position.

In a last-ditch effort to escape, Macaque dispels his form shift, leaving him small enough to slip through even the divots he had left in the earth just minutes earlier.

It doesn’t save him- Wukong catches him by the tail, holding the furry appendage between two large fingers. Placing his tired rival in one large palm, he comes upon the already shaking simian with the five hands left free, each pointer finger wiggling and tickling into Macaque’s skin.

There’s a delight to be had in hearing monkeyish squealing and shouting, desperate chitters and squeaks one after the other. Wukong certainly takes a few minutes to enjoy it.

But even the Great Sage knows that there are times to get serious- and when Macaque’s sneaky yellow eyes bead up with fresh tears that threaten to spill, he pulls all hands away, observing his rival.

Macaque lies across Wukong’s massive palm, trembling weakly from the aftershocks of so much laughter and wheezing.

“Alright, alright,” Wukong chuckles, righting his disoriented rival with a single finger, propping him up. “C’mere, ya big baby!” He gives Macaque’s back a few gentle flicks, hoping that it would shock his shaken system back to normal. “Easy, bud… hey, hey… deep breathes, okay?”

“Hnnng… ahhh… huff… huff… Wu- Wukong! You- I-“

��I know, I know. You’ll “get your vengeance”, the king mockingly says, pitching his newly booming voice similar to his rival’s. “I know ya will, bud. Just settle down for right now and breathe.”

“…hmph. You’re the worst,” Macaque huffs, resting his chin against a ridge on Wukong’s palm with an exhausted pout. “Watch your back, you big ape.”

“I will, bud,” he lightly returns, bringing his rival up for a warm nuzzle, much to the latter’s embarrassment. “I’ll keep an eye out for the big, scary, Six-Eared Macaque.” Another few minutes pass with Wukong coddling the sable simian to his cheek, sharing a soothing warmth to help settle Macaque's nerves.

He pulls away slowly, regarding his fellow monkey with kind eyes.

Carefully, he rolls the umbrakinetic onto his well-tickled stomach in spite of angry protests, then starts to run a large thumb down the black-furred back. Macaque immediately relaxes, nearly purring at the pleasant sensation.

The Monkey King knew he would certainly have the favor repaid shortly thereafter, not even a full week having passed… but for right now?

Wukong would hold Macaque tight, close his eyes… and relish the closeness of his “little brother”, just like he did centuries ago.

“…I missed you, bud.”

“…yeah,” sighs Macaque, still laying on his belly and trying to keep his tail from wagging. “I know.”

“…and I missed you too.”

#Not Yandere #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #Sun Wukong #Macaque #Fluff #Tickle Content

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webslingingslasher · 1 year ago

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since trouble doesn't know peter is spidey do you think she sometimes is amazed/confused as hell by his super strength? like he sometimes forgets himself and idk does something that requires unbelievable strength and trouble's like..... that's not normal

yes. peter’s gotten good at acting like a normal human, and since he pushes spidey to the back, his powers aren’t as strong as they normally are, but he’s still a fucking hero.

like, one time he came over to help trouble rearrange her dorm room and she’s doing her best to keep up but when he, quite literally, picks her desk up with two hands on either side, and turns around with no sign of struggle with a ‘where you want this one, trouble?’

she’s like a guppy, staring at him in shock, not that she thought he was weak, but she didn’t know he was that strong.

and peter realizes where he messed up so he pretends to weaken his stance, ‘c’mon, trouble, it’s getting heavy.’ and that snaps her from her trance and points against the opposite wall and stares at him until he slowly sets it down.

‘you’re very strong.’

peter’s quick to avoid eye contact, ‘nah, not really. you should see tarrent move shit around, he puts me to shame.’

———

peter’s kicking his feet and squirming around on his bed.

‘stop it! you’re being a menace!’

her fingers won’t stop digging underneath his armpits, a jolt each time she tickles him.

‘i told you i’m not ticklish!’

‘liar, liar!’ he tries to roll over, but she’s stationary on his lap.

‘c’mon, trouble! quit it!’

a vicious giggle, ‘make me!’

she thought she had him pinned down, she didn’t. peter just let her think she did. her hands scramble to grab his, thinking if she went flying away it would help.

her back hit the bed, peter had tossed her to the side with one hand. he shifted to lay over her, holding her in place with one hand on her tummy.

her squirm made peter smile, ‘made you.’

she fought against his hold, she really did. it felt like sleep paralysis, she used all her might but she couldn’t even get her neck off the bed.

pushing at peters hand she felt a little too trapped, kicking her feet and trying to roll to her side. he had her locked in.

she wasn’t having fun anymore, ‘peter, stop!’ he thought she was, can he not feel her fighting?

‘nuh uh, you’re just gonna attack me again.’

she feels hot, ‘you’re too strong, get off!’ he rolls his eyes, ‘you can’t sweeten me up, trouble. i know your games.’

she wheezes, ‘peter, please let go.’

she gasps for air the second he removes his hand, she didn’t realize how hard he was crushing her until he moved away.

peter throws her shirt up, his eyes dancing over the skin making sure she isn’t bruised.

‘are you hurt?’

‘no, you were just… when did you get so strong?’

peter’s heart is racing, ‘i didn’t- i’m not. maybe you were tired from tormenting me?’

‘you immobilized me without even trying.’

‘i tried plenty, you’re a fighter.’

‘okay, but like…’ she squeezes at his biceps, ‘have you been working out more?’

‘if you want me more squishy just tell me.’

her eyes narrow, ‘you’re deflecting. if it’s steroids you can’t hide it from me, cause your dick is gonna shrivel up.’

‘do you really think i could shove a needle into my own arm? i’d die.’

‘deflecting!’

peter’s panicking, it’s his fault, he got too into you he forgot about holding back. he’s got to charm his way out of it.

‘is it wrong to wanna look good for my baby?’

his name came out in a squeal, she went hiding into his touch.

‘petey! stop!'

#frat!peter drabbles

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holdmytesseract · 6 months ago

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Hello bestie!!

First of all congratulations for 2k!!🎊🎊❤ I absolutely loveee your idea of the campfire and I'm here for it 🙋🏻‍♀️

Character: Tom hiddleston

Song (505 by arctic monkeys) :

"But I crumble completely when you cry

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye"

Maybe some angst with a happy end (?) Cant wait what you come up with!! Lots of love <3🤍🎀

Hard To Say Goodbye

Warnings: angst? fluff, dad!Tom!

Word Count: blurb

a/n: @muddyorbsblr helped me a bit along and inspired me, so this happened. I really hope you like it, friend! 💚

"You'll have to fly to Hawaii tomorrow?" You responded kinda shocked; trying your hardest to keep your focus on the road. From the other end of the line, you received a deep sigh. "Tomorrow, yes." You stopped at a red light and blew a raspberry into the heated air of the car.

"Evie isn't going to like this, babe... She really looks forward to spend the second week of the autumn holidays with us. Well, especially with you..."

Another deep, almost painful sigh escaped your husband's lips. "I know, darling, I know... It hurts me to the core, but I can't change it. I signed up to this. It's my obligation to be there. If I would've know that they wished to start shooting Skull Island in October, I would've planned things differently."

Hearing Tom's words caused you to feel bad as well. You didn't mean to blame him or wanted him to blame himself.

"Babe, please stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault. I'm just sad for our baby." "Me too, love..." Tom swallowed hard. "Did you pick her up already?" "No, I'm just on my way to your mom's." "Alright... I'll be home in about an hour as well. Then I'll talk to Evie, okay?" You nodded to yourself. "Alright. See you later. Love you, babe." "I love you, too."

After picking up your excited six-year-old and drove back home, Tom was already home as well. The light in the bathroom was switched on and the delicious smell of his aftershave, shower gel and cologne mingling in the air was proof enough. "Baby, I think daddy's home already from his gym session," you told Evie with a smile on your face as you helped her untie her shoelaces.

An excited gurgle left her lips. "I missed daddy so much!" You giggled; knowing very well that she did. Evie was a daddy's girl - from the very day of her birth. "I know, sweetie. I-" The sound of a door falling into it's hinges cut off your sentence.

Tom had left the bathroom.

Evie's eyes widened. She quickly and clumsily kicked off her shoes, "Daddy!" and stumbled to run around the corner. "Daddy!"

Tom had barely closed the door behind him, when he heard the sound of small feet against the wooden floor and his daughter's happy voice. A big smile stretched across the actor's face. He squatted down; still only in boxers, due to fact that he just took a shower and waited for Evie to run into his arms.

And she did.

"Daddyyyy!" The little girl with blond-brown locks squealed and threw herself in her father's arms. "Hey, sweetheart." Tom lifted her off the ground; hugging his daughter tightly and inhaling her scent. He had definitely missed her. "I missed you so much, peanut." Evie giggled and cuddled closer against Tom; wrapping her little legs around his bare waist. "I missed you, too."

Tom peppered her forehead and cheek with kisses, before he slowly let her stand on her own two feet again, but still squatted down to be on eye level with the child. "Did you have a great few days at granny's? Did you keep her on her t- Oh, hello, darling."

You had get rid of your shoes as well and decided to join the small family reunion - but now your body was struggling between suffering from an ovary explosion because of the cuteness Evie and Tom radiated together, or drooling all over your husband. Since he had to start training for his role as James Conrad in his upcoming movie 'Kong: Skull Island', he built up a lot of muscles - and now that he was almost naked, it really showed.

You swallowed; trying hard not to lose your shit in front of your daughter.

"Hey, babe."

Tom quickly picked up Evie again and walked over to you, in order to press a kiss on your lips. You threatened to burst.

"Daddy, can we go play? Nana got me a new doll for my tea parties!" Tom reluctantly broke the kiss and nodded at the girl on his arm. "Of course, peanut. You still have to tell me what you did together with granny. I just have to get dressed. Go already ahead, okay?" She nodded and happily jumped down the hallway towards her room.

In the meantime, you got your brain working properly again; remembering that you could have this handsome man all to yourself tonight.

You placed your palms on his muscular pecs. "You should really talk to her, babe..." Tom nodded sadly; arms enveloping your body. "I have to, I know." You cupped your husbands chiselled cheeks and kissed him lovingly. "I'll start dinner."

The rest of the evening was overshadowed by Tom having to leave for Hawaii tomorrow. Evie always hated it, when her father left the country to film, but in that very moment, it made her even sadder - and that didn't change no matter how much Tom tried to make it up to her.

And the next morning wasn't better...

Thick crocodile tears ran down Evie's face as she watched Tom packing his last few things. "Daddy don't go," she sobbed; clinging onto Tom's leg.

His heart broke all over again. He couldn't help himself but to lift her up in his arms again. She was getting pretty heavy now. After all, she wasn't a toddler anymore, but the Brit didn't care at all. She was his little girl and his fatherly instincts strong.

"I am so sorry, peanut. Daddy doesn't want to leave, but unfortunately he has to. It's his job, you know..." He pressed a kiss against her cheek and gently brushed her tears away with his thumb. "I promise you, that I'll call you every night for your bedtime story." Evie rubbed her red, teary eyes. "And before I go to school?" Tom nodded. "And before you go to school."

That reassured the girl at least a little bit.

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @brokenpoetliz @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger @vbecker10

#campfire sleepover #2k follower celebration #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n

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itzsana-kiddingmenow · 4 months ago

Text

𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.4k

𝙖/𝙣: @hearted-anon 👀

𝙩/𝙬: use of restraints, rough tickling, changbin works too hard smh

𝒍𝒆𝒆: changbin

𝙡𝙚𝙧: hyunjin

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

Changbin worked a lot. Sure, it was difficult for him to admit so, but deep down he was aware that he worked a little too much for someone who was supposed to be taking a break.

He woke up pretty early in the morning, drank TWO cups of coffee, and then made his usual protein shake and grabbing his bag to head down to the gym.

Two hours later and he was walking back, skin dewy from his shower and then he was working, either dancing, singing, or rapping—or maybe even all three, until he had lunch.

Then he was producing some new music. He would sit at his desk [or maybe the couch?] and he would work on new music all day and even throughout the night, where he fell asleep at a ungodly time.

Yeah, okay. Maybe he worked a lot. He never really did things for fun outside his free time, did he?

Hyunjin frowned when he caught Changbin laying on the couch, phone in his hand. “What are you doing?”

Changbin looked up with a smile. “Hi, Hyunnie!!” He sang, rising from the couch with a groan and running to cling onto the younger.

Hyunjin shook his head fondly as Changbin buried his head into his chest, and he ruffled his hyung’s hair. God, he was too sweet.

“Um—so hyung, why are you still working? It’s so late.” Hyunjin asked, cupping the shorter’s cheeks and squishing them with an ever-rising love growing in his chest.

“Mmm…don’t wanna…” Binnie suddenly yawned, and Hyunjin glanced at the face, a feeling of exhaustion settling over it.

“You should really rest, hyung. You look super-duper tired.” Jinnie sighed, moving his arms down and wrapping them around the bunny’s belly. “C’mon. Pretty please?”

“Mmhm…noo…” Binnie whined, squealing when Hyunjin teasingly poked his ribs.

“C’mon hyung~” Suddenly Changbin could feel the air turning mischievous, and he immediately scrambled to protect himself.

“W-Wait wait—HYUNJIN!!” He shrieked suddenly when he was full body thrown onto the couch, feet dangling over the edge as Hyunjin easily got the upper hand.

”Keep ‘em up or it gets 10x worse.“ Hyunjin grabbed the older’s arms and squeezed, pulling them easily over the bunny’s head.

Binnie gulped, firmly grabbing the edge of the couch above his head, just as Hyune began to untuck his shirt.

“You still don’t wanna take a break, huh?” Jinnie scoffed, opening up the dwaekki’s shirt up to his highest rib, smiling at the familiar way Binnie’s legs kicked suddenly as cold air hit his skin.

“H-Hyunjin…please!! The others are sleeping!!” Binnie hissed, cheeks flushing a furious red when Hyunjin traced down his arms. “Then you better stay extra quiet, hm?”

“Hyuhuhunjihin pleeheheeaasee!!” Binnie giggled, unable to hold back his sweet giggles as Hyunjin traced around his small, rounded tummy, the skin unbearably sensitive.

“Plehehehease dohohohon’t!!” He snickered, tangling his hands in his hair as Hyunjin continued to happily keep the older giggling beneath him.

“Don’t what?” Hyunjin feigned cluelessness, continuing his small movements across Binnie’s torso, trapping the boy’s knees further when the rapper began to kick desperately behind him with a high pitched squeal.

“Dohohon’t tihihickle mehehehe—PLEHEASEE!!” Changbin pleaded when Hyunjin moved to his ribs, grabbing the smaller’s rib cage and shaking it to pull louder belly laughter from his hyung.

“Please what? Please keep tickling my sweet little ribs? Please keep on making me laugh? You have to specify, bunny~” Hyunijin cooed, and Changbin squeezed his eyes shut, a flustered pink blush coating his ears.

“Plehehease KEEHEHeeep ohon mahahahaking me lahahahaugh!!” Poor Changbin giggled flusteredly.

Hyunjin’s heart almost exploded. “Gosh, hyung, you’re just so cute.” He mused, skittering his fingers along the dwaekki’s upper torso, mainly his armpits. Binnie begged, the words fading into frantic laughter as he kicked his legs desperately behind Hyune. “NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!!”

Hyunjin only continued his scribbling along his hyung’s armpits, Changbin shaking his head as he cackled and tried to keep his arms up. Only, the dancer continued with his relentless teasing until Binnie couldn’t bear it anymore, throwing his hands down to grip at Hyunjin’s.

“Oop. They’re down~” Hyune cooed, grabbing his belt from behind him and using it to buckle the poor dwaekki’s wrists to the heavy chair behind them.

“Thahat’s so unfair!!” Binnie complained. Not that he minded, he always got wrecked worse when he was tied down and helpless.

“You’re the one tied down. I make the rules here.” Hyune declared, gently rubbing down Binnie’s legs as he tried to catch his breath.

“Tummy time~” Hyunjin returned to Changbin’s belly. He always did.

“W-Wahait…No rahaspberries pleheasee!!” Changbin stuttered, eyes widening in anticipation as Hyunjin pressed a small kiss to his torso.

“Oh? I wasn’t gonna do it (he was), but now thanks for that idea!” Hyunjin exclaimed, leaning closer to the older’s belly.

The fact that Binnie couldn’t move at all had him nervously twitching and squeezing his eyes shut.

He suddenly shrieked when the raspberry landed—not on his tummy—but on that torturously ticklish area right beneath Bin’s pecs that always had him howling.

“HYUHUHUHUHUNJIHIHIHIN!!” He screamed in betrayal, squealing frantically when the buzzing sensation only continued.

Binnie started to cry with mirth, shaking his head side to side as Hyunjin aimed for the sides of his chest, and the younger was suddenly startled as a long, sharp wail tore out of the bunny’s throat.

Frightened that he had hurt him, Hyunjin abruptly stopped. Right in the middle of the raspberry.

Changbin choked on a peal of laughter, panting hard and Hyunjin began to feel the worst. The dwaekki seemed to be genuinely out of breath.

“Hyung…hyung, I’m so s-sorry…are you okay?” Hyunjin immediately scrambled to unbuckle and grasp at Binnie’s arms.

“Yeahah…why’d youhu stop lihike that...?” Changbin heaved.

“I…I thought I’d hurt you…” Hyunjin suddenly gasped, and Bin sat up immediately, grabbing at the dancer’s shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug.

“No. No, you didn’t hurt me, baby…what made you think so?” Binnie cooed, and Hyunjin coughed for a second before responding. “You sounded like you were in pain.”

Changbin laughed. “Nonono love, it just…um—you know—tickled…too much.” He cleared his throat in embarrassment.

Hyunjin looked up at him with a mischievous smirk.

“Hyune…Hyunjin.” Changbin immediately began to back up, the younger crawling towards him all the same.

Binnie shrieked when his back hit the headboard and suddenly Hyunjin was wrestling him down and managing to pin the older yet again.

“Let’s move here?” Hyunjin tapped gently on the skin of the rapper’s thigh, gently rolling up his shorts to expose the inner area.

“Nohoho…I really can’t tahake ihit there!” Changbin stared in horror as Hyunjin began to gently wiggle his fingers, nearing the skin gently…slowly.

Suddenly, Hyunjin’s knees were pinning Binnie’s apart and his hands were scribbling torturously up and down the skin, causing the poor rapper to wail desperately through his loud cackles.

“WAHAHHAHAAHAHAIT!! IHIT TIHICKLES TOO MUHUCH PLEHEHEASEE!!”

“How could I? I love your thighs, so soft and perfect.” Hyunjin replied, looking fondly down at his beautiful hyung, smile wide and happy.

“NOHO—WAIT—CHAHAHAHANGE SPOHOHOHOTS I CAHAHAHAN’T!!” Changbin wailed, kicking his legs out fruitlessly.

Instead of moving to a spot where Bin could handle it, of course, Hyunjin then grabbed his ankle, running his nails down the taut skin, moving half of his fingers to the inner part of Bin’s feet.

Changbin nearly saw god. High pitched squeals tore themselves out of his throat and his mind was breaking. “NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAAHAAAHA I CAHAHANT!!”

“Really? Even your ankles are so unbearable ticklish that I have you squealing here beneath me? What about these little feet then, hm?” Hyune then switched to said spot, and Changbin’s laughter went silent immediately, only coming back wilder.

“HYUHHUHUNE WAHAHAHAIT PLEHEHEASE!!” Changbin screamed. “MAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT STAHAHAHAHAHAP OHO GOHOHOHOD!!”

“Only if you agree to take a break with me.”

Binnie gave in immediately, especially because fingers began to torturously tickle at his thighs again.

“OKAHAHAHAHAHAY!! IHIHILL TAHAKE A BREEHEHEHEHEAK!! IHI PROHIHOHOMISE!!”

Hyunjin let up on that spot, moving back to his hyung’s belly to give him a breather.

Binnie panted as Hyunjin let him go, laying his fluffy hair on the bunny’s bare tummy and sighing in satisfaction.

Changbin slept that night peacefully, as did a warm ferret who snored away on his hyung’s soft tummy, hands kneading gently at the older’s thighs.

Safe to say, Hyunjin got to spoil his hyung the next day with all the lovely things, and the break was certainly well-deserved.

#midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #kpop tickle #skz tickle #skz #lee changbin #ler hyunjin

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reidslovely · 1 year ago

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Bambi!! I have a request, my love!

Frat!Peter taking you and your little baby daughter on a picnic sometimes because he just wants to spend time alone with his girls ♡ maybe she's a bit older by now and he just chases her around a field and they pick flowers to bring to momma? he's so girl dad I'm gonna cry. okay, anyway, love you, love frat!Peter, hope you have a lovely day/night

Tana my love I love you so much!! I adore this thought and while listening to my cute little domestic Peter playlist Hozier's In a Week came on and it only fueled me to write more...thus I give you this cute little blurb..

We'd Become the Flowers

(please reblog or comment in place of liking/hearting this post pretty please)

Grass and flowers crushed under Peter's bare feet as he chased the three year old around the field. “Maisy, Maisy, Maisy May.” He said your little girl's name in a sing-song voice pretending not to be able to catch up with the little girl.

“Be careful you two I don’t need another coffee table incident.”

Peter and the little girl's ears peaked at your voice yelling into the field.

“I only needed a few stitches.” Peter defends himself, hearing you laugh. Snatching the curly haired toddler into his arms blowing a soft raspberry on her cheek.

Her soft giggles and squeals of more filled the air in the meadow, you lounged lazily on the yellow checkered blanket with your finals study guide/homework scattered around you. Peter could see a blur of your hair color and the blue sundress hazy in the sunlight.

“Wanna help daddy?” Peter asked, kissing his daughter's head spinning her around.

“Wanna help.” She says kicking her legs as Pete puts her down picking a handful of flowers. She watches him intently grabbing from yellow and pink flowers. “For momma.”

Peter nodded in response. “Of course.”

Peter watched her adoringly, she was the perfect mix of the two of you. She was so little but her heart already held your passion and kindness. Her need for adventure and terrible two’s coming from him. He thanked whatever sent you to him, and whatever got him here. He sat in the grass pretending to bite at the flower his daughter was putting in his face.

These were his favorite days, all day picnics in upstate. He felt a joy he knew all too familiar. It was the same feeling he held going to ball games with Ben growing up, but now he was happy to be on the other end.

Peter carried his daughter on his hip as he walked back, her little arms tucked full of the flowers they had picked. Maisy insisted she was big and strong enough to carry them all.

“What is this?” Your head craned up to look at them and the heat built in Peter’s chest and face.

“Just a little gift for momma.” Peter smiles sitting Maisy down as she handed you the bouquet, which of itself was pretty impressive.

“Awe thank you Maisy May.” You said kissing your daughter's head flattening out her hair. Maisy smiled hugging her arms around your neck and Peter took a mental picture tucking it away into his long term memory.

“Everything okay?” You had asked him after a bit of him just sitting and staring, your daughter half asleep in your lap. Your fingers played with her curls as Peter's chin rested on his knee. He smiled and twirled one of the pink flowers from the batch.

“Everything is perfect bashful, I got my girls.”

Hope you enjoyed this small little blurb friend 🫶🏼 it was so cute.

Taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @a-lumos-in-the-nox @moonyslove78 @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @eevylynn

If you'd like to join my taglist check my pinned post!!

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breakerwind · 5 months ago

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Nirei’s Notebook

Lee!Nirei / Ler!Sakura

Summary: Sakura thinks that he caught Nirei writing bad things about him in his notebook. When Nirei refuses to show him, Sakura resorts to tickling him until he does.

A/N: I didn’t read this after writing it so pls ignore any mistakes

“Show me!” Sakura threw his hands at Nirei’s notebook, trying to grab it.

Nirei held it behind his back and took a few steps backward. “No! It’s private.”

Sakura had caught Nirei sneakily writing something about him in his notebook and was determined to find out what it was. Was it bad? He assumed it was since he could’ve sworn that he’d seen a stupid little frowny face next to his name.

“It’s not private if it’s my name, dumbass! Now show me what the hell you were writing!” Sakura shouted, charging at poor Nirei. He rammed into the blond, knocking both boys to the floor.

Sakura landed on top of Nirei, sitting on his waist. He froze for a second before blushing and quickly trying to grab the notebook from Nirei’s hands.

Nirei was swift. He managed to sway his hands in the air fast enough to keep Sakura from grabbing the notebook. He was doing so good, until…

“GaHA- Wuhu…wahait, stop!”

Sakura had jammed a finger into Nirei’s exposed armpit, making him clamp his arms down. The notebook was now in reach and easy to grab, but Sakura didn’t even realize it. He was too focused on the giggles that had come from Nirei to notice.

He looked surprised, although he’d heard Nirei laugh plenty of times. Sakura tried something new, poking the boy’s belly a few times.

“Sahakura, no!” Nirei giggled, kicking his feet. He tried to grab Sakura’s fingers, but they were too attached to his stomach to be removed. He kept poking Nirei’s ticklish belly until Nirei finally grabbed the notebook and threw it at Sakura’s chest.

Even then, Sakura didn’t pay attention to what he’d originally harassed the boy for. Right now, he was too busy trying out new spots to tickle. He wondered if different spots caused different laughter…

“Thehere! There’s the nohoteboohohok! Tahake it!” Nirei pleaded. Sakura responded with a few squeezes to Nirei’s sides, making him squirm around beneath the stronger boy.

“GahAHah! Pluhuhease, take the nohotebook!” Nirei giggled, weakly pushing Sakura’s arms away from his sensitive sides. “Ahand stop looking ahat me like thahat!”

Sakura snapped back into reality. “What do you mean, ‘like that’?! The hell am I looking at you like?” He asked, starting to squeeze his sides roughly, even letting his fingers rise up to his ribs. They pinched and poked, making Nirei squeal and whine.

“I mehean…youhohou look like ahAHaho crahazy man!” Nirei managed to speak, although Sakura could barely understand what he was saying.

“I look crazy? Well…uh, you look stupid!” Sakura retorted, now shoving his fingers under Nirei’s arms. Nirei flailed his legs in the air and slammed his palms against the floor.

“WahAHAHoHOah! GAha, Sahakura!” He yelped. He tried to think of ways to escape, but his mind shut off when Sakura scratched the center of his armpit. “FUhuck! SAHAkaHAra!”

Sakura chuckled, pleased with himself. “Call me crazy again, I dare you!” He teased, holding one of Nirei’s wrists above his head and placing his index finger on the center of his armpit. He let it sit on the ticklish spot, not moving it an inch. “Do it!” He desperately wanted a reason to tickle the fuck out of Nirei.

“NOHahoHO! No! I’m sohorry!” Nirei squealed, using his free hand to whack Sakura’s head. “Lehemme go!”

Sakura huffed and puffed before freeing Nirei’s wrist. There was a moment of silence between the two for a moment.

“Are…are you gonna get off of me?” Nirei asked. Sakura quickly hopped off of his waist, embarrassed. When he looked down at his feet out of embarrassment, he saw Nirei’s notebook lying right beside him.

Grabbing it, he flipped through the pages, trying to find his section. Nirei watched him do this, trying to keep himself from snatching it back. He knew that he’d get tickled more if he did…

When he finally found his section, there was a note at the bottom that read: “Sakura tells me ‘Good Morning’ now.”

Beside it was a smiley face. He looked at Nirei, then back at the notebook before slamming it shut and handing it back to its owner.

“I only say good morning because it’s nice!” Sakura’s face was pink as he tried to explain himself. He wanted to seem quiet and tough, but to him, greeting Nirei with good morning went against that persona. “Don’t get the wrong idea, alright?!”

Nirei chuckled, laying the notebook down. “Okay. Well, thanks for being nice to me.” He said, a huge grin on his face.

Sakura wanted to knock some sense into Nirei, but instead replied with: “Whatever…you’re welcome…I guess.” If you looked closely enough, you would see that Sakura also had a tiny smile on his face.

“Just…don’t write smiley faces anymore! It looked like a frown and I thought something was wrong.” Sakura demanded. Nirei nodded, still smiling, although he had no intentions of quitting smiley faces anytime soon.

The day ended with Nirei telling everyone in class how Sakura couldn’t tell the difference between a smiley face and a frowny face. Nirei was lucky that Suo and Kiryu held Sakura back when he tried to lunge at him…or else the class would’ve found something else to talk about–that being how ticklish Nirei was.

#wind breaker #tickle #tickling #ticklish!nirei #lee!nirei #ler!sakura #tickle fic #tickle talk #breakerwind #haruka sakura #akihiko nirei

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tkfanz428 · 1 year ago

Text

“I’m bored….”

Lee: Noah

Ler: Izzy

TDWT

Izzy sits at the corner of the plane seat, curled into a ball. She puffs her breath since Owen threatened to break up with her if she started beef again with Chef. She whines as she stays in her seat, rocking back and forth, popping bubbles in her mouth.

“Ugh…. Could you be any louder…?” Noah groaned, he covered his ears before lifting his legs. He laid them down right next to Izzy, big mistake of his… a thought lifted her frown into a smile…

He felt his shoe getting lose, before he could tug it. He felt a hand grab him by the ankle.

“Hey? Izzy? Wait what’re you-?!” He watched his shoe tumble on the ground, he then saw his sock fall on the ground.

“Hope you ready Noah…” Izzy giggles, she lifted her free hand, wiggling her fingers in the air. Noah tried to tug his foot away, his hands kept sliding off the seat.

“AGH!!!!” Noah squealed, his foot shook with every finger that spidered up his toes. Izzy giggles, she traps Noah’s toes, she watches as he desperately twitches. Noah bangs his head against the seat, he covers his head, laughing harder every second.

“Shouldn’t we stop this?” Tyler questions,

“I don’t know I kinda wanna watch what happens next.” Owen leans on his hand.

“Well we can call this free entertainment.” Alejandro smirks, Noah turns to him, trying to hold a glare and his puffed up laughs. Izzy pauses for a moment, Noah gasps as he lifts his head look at her.

“Okay.. you had your fun Izzy. Now let me go, or I’ll- YAGH!!!” Noah burst out laughing as Izzy snuck her hand back to his sole. This was the first time she’s heard him laugh so hard because of her. She watched as he tried to hard to curl in his foot. Noah covered his face, blocking the boys’ view of the tears flooding around his face.

“Izzy! PLEHEHEASE! STOP IT! I CANT TAKE ANY-*HIC!*-MORE!” Noah choked out, Izzy couldn’t even understand what he was saying as everything that came out his mouth was cut off by a hiccup. Noah jerked closer to the edge of the seat, he fell down to the floor. The loud thud caught Team Victory’s attention.

He started kicking with his free leg. All it felt like to Izzy was some soft shoves. She then grabbed his other ankle.

“Thank you for letting me know Noah. I agree. I think the other foot is feeling lonely.” Izzy started untying his other shoe.

“Wait! WAIT! NOHOHO! IZZY THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT! IZZY LET ME GOHO!” Noah couldn’t help but laugh, if it was irritating before, it’ll definitely be hell for him now.

“Let me experiment real quick..” Izzy pecked at his socked foot, Noah squeaked, she pecked his bare foot, he squeaks once more. Izzy noticed a quicker reaction without the sock on. Noah felt the last bit of protection peel off his feet. She wrapped her arms around Noah’s defenseless legs.

“I’d rather not hog him up you guys. Anyone like a turn?” Izzy turned to the others.

Noah’s face turned pale.

“Wait, don’t bring other people into this!” Noah whimpered. It didn’t take long for everyone to gang up on him, for the next hour, he was a laughing mess.

“I’m gettin bored of just this spot. Let’s make it more fun for him..” Alejandro went to Noahs head. He pulled Noah’s arms up, exposing his sucked in belly.

“Hey-! *HIC!* Nonono please..!” Noah laughed out.

The rest of team victory all dove into his belly, all Noah could feel was the sensations of soft, cold hands rubbing and poking his belly and feet. He was struggling more to catch a breath now that his two worst spots were being mercilessly tormented. His squeals and screams began to sound more agitated than pleasurable.

His desperate cries for help eventually reached Team amazon.

Courtney intervened, forcing Izzy to let Noah go. He laid on the ground, panting, hiccuping, choking on his own giggles. His body kept twitching.

“You’re lucky I got my wiggles out now Noah. But next time it’ll be on my time only.” Izzy laid her head on the wall behind her. Her snores signaled everyone else to go back to what they were doing. Noah hugged he tightly, thanking her for saving him, at the corner of his eye, he saw Alejandro glaring at him.

His green eyes showed a sign of malice, it unnerved him slightly….

#tickle art #total drama tickles #lee!noah #ler!izzy

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draconisxcaput · 2 years ago

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It Is Exceptionally Lovely Being Draco Malfoy

☆ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

☆ Word Count: 1757

☆ Summary: The moment you share together, snuggled between the bedsheets and wrapped up in each other’s early morning affections, is light and warm and everything Christmas morning is supposed to be

☆ Warnings: mentions of food (hot chocolate) alluded to pregnancy, reader and draco celebrate christmas

Soft flurries of snow are falling from the winter sky, dancing in the wind and landing delicately on the ground outside of the Malfoy’s apartment on Christmas morning. Draco wakes up gradually, the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair lulls him out of his slumber, and he turns his head towards you, grey eyes still droopy and a lazy smile pulling at his lips.

You giggle, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on his lips before you pull away, still stroking his silky locks and brushing them away from his face. “Merry Christmas, handsome.”

Draco gives a content sigh, nuzzling into your embrace for a moment longer, and begins to pepper kisses up the expanse of your arm until he arrives at your cheek and whispers against the rosy skin, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

Your smile is beaming, and the moment you share together, snuggled between the bedsheets and wrapped up in each other’s early morning affections, is light and warm and everything Christmas morning is supposed to be.

Draco gets up first, rolling out of bed and shuffling around the room as he shrugs on a clean button-up. He looks over to you — his wife — who is still laying in bed, and sends a cheeky wink when he catches you watching him get dressed.

“Want me to wake him up?” He asks, still doing up the buttons on his shirt while giving you a knowing look.

Immediately, you groan, bringing your hands to your face, and fall back into the plush pillows behind you. “Yes please,” you mumble from behind your hands and peek between your fingers to see Draco laughing and walking over to your side of the bed before he leans down and presses another kiss to your head. You bring your hands down and cross them in front of your chest, staring at your husband with a pout on your lips. “He never makes a fuss with you, I don’t get it.”

Draco only laughs harder, pulling away with a smug grin on his face, and makes his way to the door. “I can’t help that he likes me better,” he says from the doorway with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He receives a whine in response, and he sends you one last smile before he leaves the room and walks down the hall in sock-clad feet.

He’s quiet as he approaches the nursery, opening the door slowly, and padders over to the crib. He ducks his head under the mobile and is met with the sight of his sleepy little baby, blond hair askew at the top of his head and a tiny thumb sucked into his mouth. Draco wants to take a second to admire him, let him sleep peacefully for a little while longer; but it’s Christmas Day and there are presents underneath the tree, and he just can’t wait to spoil his favourite boy.

He brings his hand down, fingers gingerly brushing against the fabric of the infant’s pyjamas and tickling his tummy. A gurgle escapes from the back of his son’s throat before he wakes up, eyes fluttering open and little mouth parting to release his first cry of the day.

But then he sees Draco, baby blue eyes meeting sterling silver, and instead of crying, he lets out a happy squeal, kicking his feet under his blanket, and flashes his daddy a very gummy smile.

“Hey Scorp,” Draco grins down at him, scooping him up in the air and holding him out at arm’s length.

Drool is already beginning to collect at Scorpius’s mouth as he continues to babble nonsense, and Draco takes the time to look him over, finally noticing the attire you had chosen to dress him in the previous night. “What in Salazar’s name was she thinking,” he grumbles, already walking towards the changing table with the baby still in his arms.

“Da!” Scorpius squirms in his hold, reaching out and making grabbing motions with his fists in an attempt to snuggle up against his father, but before he even gets close, Draco has him lying down on the table, a set of more appropriate jammies in his hand.

When he finishes changing the baby, he holds him up again, admiring his work, and then Scorpius is at it again, closing and reopening his fists and calling out to his father. “Dada! Dada!”

And it warms Draco’s heart really, how much Scorpius loves him. He wants to shower him in all of the love he never knew when he was a child, the love that only his wife, his soulmate could show him existed. Draco smiles warmly down at the babe once more, giving in to his insistent requests, and cradles his body against his chest, tucking his little blond head into his neck.

Walking out of the nursery is easy, Scorpius is quiet and content in his daddy’s embrace, and Draco holds him tightly as he makes his way to the family room where the fireplace is roaring, the Christmas lights are twinkling, and the crystal ornament shining in glittering letters of ‘baby’s first Christmas’ is hanging from the tree.

“What is he wearing?” You walk into the room, brows furrowed and holding two mugs of marshmallow hot chocolate in your hands as you take in your sleepy son, little arms and little legs all bundled up in a dark green onesie.

Draco cranes his neck to look down at Scorpius, and when he’s met with a very happy baby smiling back at him, he leans down to press little kisses to the crown of his head before he looks back at you and answers, simply, “Pyjamas.”

You scoff, bending down to put the mugs on the table, and come back up, eyes narrowed sceptically and hands resting on your hips. “What happened to the ones I dressed him in last night?”

“The red and gold ones?” Draco waves you off. “They were ghastly, surely you didn’t think I was going to let our son frolic around on Christmas morning dressed as a bloody Gryffindor.”

“They weren’t Gryffindor related! They were festive!” You squeak, and Scorpius has taken to teething on the collar of Draco’s shirt.

“Well, these are festive too,“ he gestures to the green cotton onesie. “And if you ask me, I think the green suits him more anyways.”

Scorpius makes a sound of agreement, humming around the fabric in his mouth, and your expression softens as you walk over to your little family, cupping your husband’s cheek and stroking his skin softly. “You’re very lucky I love you.” And then you’re pulling the baby out of Draco’s grasp, shushing him soothingly when he makes a wail of protest.

“I know my sweet boy, I know,” you cradle him just as Draco had been doing before, “It’s still early for you, I know, but it’s your first Christmas, and mummy and daddy have so many presents for you.”

There’s a pout resting on Draco’s lips as he watches you take the baby, and he chases after you, trailing behind like a lost puppy as you head toward the tree. “I hope you don’t plan on hogging him all day,” he plops down on the floor, right amongst the sea of gifts, “He’s my son too, you kn—“

You plant yourself right in his lap, snuggling into his chest and bouncing Scorpius in your arms. He goes soft immediately, his own arms snaking around your waist and peering over your shoulder to look at your little bundle of joy, giggling and squealing with delight. You lean back, angling your head to look up at him, “Better?” You ask.

He nods, agreeing, “Better,” and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

It isn’t even an hour later when wrapping paper is littering the floor, new toys are flooding the room, and a bright green dragon, plush and bigger than Scorpius’ little body is clutched between his chubby hands.

You’ve left the room, gone to fetch “just a little surprise” for Draco, who is currently lying on the floor, squeezing and tickling his son’s little clothed feet. When you come back in, you’re holding a small, lidded box, all wrapped up in a sparkling fennel bow. He takes it from you curiously, one of his fine brows arched as he looks back and forth between the small parcel in his hand and the woman standing across from him.

“I thought we said no gifts…?”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you bring clasped hands up to your mouth to hide your excitement. “I know,” you say gently, “but this one didn’t cost a thing.”

And under any other circumstance, he’s sure he wouldn’t open it, too filled with pride to accept a present from his wife when he himself is empty-handed. But as you stare at him expectantly, eyes shining brighter than the star at the top of the tree, he realizes he doesn’t feel guilt at all. All he feels is love.

Shooting you one last glance to which you nod her head encouragingly, he begins to pull at the ribbon, unravelling the bow completely before he moves on to the lid of the box. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting, but when his eyes make contact with the white stick sitting atop the plush tissue paper, he all but freezes into place because two pink lines are staring at Draco Malfoy right in his perfectly sculpted face.

There’s a pregnant pause, and though it's cliche, no other word could describe it so perfectly. Draco’s mouth is parted with awe when he looks up and there are already tears in your eyes as you kneel to the floor in front of him, Scorpius pulled into your lap, and a bashful grin stretching across your cheeks.

“You’re pregnant?” It comes out choked, his bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly.

After transferring Scorpius to one arm and using the other to brush Draco’s unruly bangs from his face, you laugh happily. “Yeah, baby,” you breathe, tucking his blond strands behind his ear. “I’m pregnant.”

There’s a storm outside and yet Draco is sure he’s never felt warmer.

He sits on the floor, his son in his arms, and the promise of a lifetime with the love of his life resting in his palm. He is quite literally holding his world in his hands, and it occurs to him, then and there, that it truly is exceptionally lovely being Draco Malfoy.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco imgaine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fanfic #draco malfoy fluff #draco fluff #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco malfoy oneshot #draco oneshot

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spicyseonghwas · 1 year ago

Text

[11:48pm]

pairing kang yeosang x male reader viewer rating 13+ genres/au's fluff, boyfriend!yeosang content warnings physical contact, kissing, playful hair pulling (kinda), pet names, implied suggestive content word count :: 431 words network tags :: @preciousillusions-net a/n i cant quite remember if i posted this or not, but it was in my google doc that held all my drabbles for my old account, so i edited it a bit! please reblog this if you like it! likes do not help my algorithm.

you grinned and hid your face in your hands as you inched shyly out of your and yeosang's shared bathroom.

"i'm here baby, you can look-" you said. but you were cut off as yeosang wolf-whistled at you.

"dayum," he said loudly, "pretty, pretty boy! y'know, you look drop-dead gorgeous in my clothes. i'm having trouble keeping a grip on myself while you're in here with me."

you grinned again, giggling like a little boy as you ran over to the bed and flopped into the pillows, an almost unnoticeable blush creeping onto your cheeks as you felt yeosang's fingertips graze over your thighs. you squealed and kicked your feet, playfully swatting his hand away as he rolled over onto you and started peppering your neck and tomato-red face with kisses.

yeosang giggled, wrapping his arms around your sides and burying his face in your neck, nuzzling the skin with the tip of his nose as he wrapped his arms around your body.

"y-yeoyeo-" you stuttered in between giggles, "st-stop it, that ti-ckles-"

you (struggled a bit and) rolled over underneath him and pushed him off, jumping on top of him and rendering him flat on his back and partially immobile as you straddled his waist.

yeosang smiled his signature soft, absolutely perfect smile that always made you melt like cheese whenever he gave it to you. he pouted cutely and reached up, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you down into a kiss that nearly made your heart stop.

"i had no idea you felt so strongly about me wearing your clothes," you said when yeosang finally let you get a breath of air.

"mmm... well i mean it baby," he responded, "you look hot as fuck in my clothes, we should do this more often. i'm having thoughts about you that i should not be allowed to talk about."

you snickered mischievously, wiggling your arms out of his grip and making grabby hands motions at him. "well then, c'mere. if you can't tell me, why not show me instead?"

this time it was yeosang's turn to snicker evilly as he leaned slowly inward, crawling over you and letting his fingers tangle into your hair with a light tug. it wasn't any sort of uncomfortable pain, just enough of a burn that the adorable, giggly boy he had pinned in his arms would react.

"oh i will, puppy, just you wait..."

your eyes widened for a split second before you broke out into a snickering fit.

"oh yeah, big boy?" you taunted playfully, "well i don't wanna wait."

#chaece.exe 🌑#k labels #ultkpop #ateezlovenet #cacaokpop #preciousillusionsnet #ateez #yeosang #kang yeosang #ateez x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x lgbt #male idol x male reader #ateez x male reader fluff #ateez x atiny #kang yeosang x male reader #yeosang x male reader #yeosang fluff #yeosang x male reader fluff

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yandecifi · 11 days ago

Text

What It Means to Be Made of Stardust

☆ chapter seven

⋆ masterlist

⋆ cw: child abuse, sa, mental illness

hawks/reader, psychological, wip longfic

Swaddled in the sheets your mother was in last night, you hide. It’s full in the apartment. The air mattress is too soft, it needs to be pumped with air, but you don’t know how.

When you first woke up, you wandered all throughout the living room, the kitchenette, the bathroom, even your father’s bedroom. You opened closets. The apartment filled up, and up, and up.

There was no breakfast sitting on the table or coffee being made. Your mother’s shoes were gone. That was five hours ago. You stuff the blankets in your mouth, it hurts to breathe.

Hawks giggles like a schoolgirl as he shoves you away from the door of some janitorial closet. To your glee, you manage to squeeze through just as he slams it shut. He screams when he sees you’ve followed him inside, crashes into a shelf full of spray bottles and cardboard boxes.

“Ahah, don’t hurt me!”

The grin on your face burns. You’re supposed to hit him back, tickle him or something, but you can’t bring yourself to touch him. You’ll throw up, start squealing, or piss yourself, maybe. You don’t want to find out.

Hawks peeks out from the arms covering his face, his eyes glimmering. It’s just the two of you surrounded by mops, squeegees, brooms, and dustpans. Shelves line the walls, a mop sink in one corner with a hose. You have the idea to spray him with it but that might be taking it a bit too far.

“You’re not gonna get revenge?” Hawks snickers, pulling your attention back to him and his teasing. “Guess you can’t really do much anyway, you got twig arms—”

You smack him on the shoulder. “Ah, shut—”

“ Ahhh, shut up !” He starts giggling again. He pitches his voice high and squeaky, waves his hands in the air. “ Shut up, stop it, Hawks !”

“Shut—” You groan. Your face is really on fire now. “Whatever!”

“ Ugh, whatever !”

You kick him in the shin. He drops to his knees, clutching his leg, his laughter ceasing.

“Oh, shut up, Hawks. That didn’t hurt.”

“So mean to me! I just had an injury there, y’know.” He rubs his shin. “Owie.”

You chew on your lip. You lean down with an apology on your tongue, but you’re bonked on the head instead.

“Got you.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“How original.”

“Shut up!”

“Telling me that clearly isn’t working.”

Your hands slap against your face, rushing to hide yourself away. He’s such a fucking prick. His laugh is like a melody.

“Sorry, sorry.” Hands wrap around your wrists. His hands. He tugs them away from you and you can do nothing to resist. “I’ll stop.”

You can barely feel your fingers with how much they’re tingling. Your heart literally feels like it’s in your throat. He could kill you right now and you would be too caught up in all this to even care.

His hands remain around your wrists, warm, fantastical. You stare at your feet, somewhere between a poorly contained smile and a bashful frown.

“You’re always so shy with me.” He leans in to try and catch you with his grin. He probably doesn’t know that that just makes it harder for you to look at him. “Why?”

“I’m not shy.”

“Oh, please.”

“Shut up.”

He releases one of your wrists to pinch your side. You yelp, jump away from him, but he just yanks you right back with a laugh. He’s close enough that you could touch his shoulders or chest if you wanted. You could hug him, kiss him.

You want to hug him so badly. You want him to hug you. You want to be hugged.

You can also see that he has a bit of a snaggle tooth, a pointy canine that’s slightly pushed out from the rest. You never saw that in all the official posts or fan accounts you’ve poured over.

He has a little snaggle tooth and you’re the only one that knows.

“I didn’t know you could make noises like that,” Hawks says, grinning, always so happy with himself.

“What the hell does that even mean?” You rub your side with your free hand, trying to look angry. He knows you aren’t. He always knows. “I’m — I need to go finish my offboarding stuff. Okay?”

You pull away from him, free your wrist from his grasp, push down your disappointment. He sighs dramatically.

“Okaaay. Have fun. My manager’s probably looking for me by now, anyway.”

“Like always.”

You turn away and turn the door handle only for it to jam. You try it again. It’s locked from the inside.

The closet is full.

You fumble to unlock the handle and slip out of the closet.

��

An old man sits at your new desk while you stare at him from beneath your freshly cleaned covers. He has sharp eyes, the kind that make you think he doesn’t like much of anything, but you know him better than that. His chin has that dark stubble he always has, they’re tendrils of an ancient plant poking out of his skin. His hair is black like fat vines dipped in oil, it drapes and drips down his shoulders in the same way. If you cut him open all you’d see is branches, brittle black branches, his skin would have so many rings on the inside there’d be no rings at all. He looks at you and he’s as still as the trees he’s made of. His teeth are made of pale mushrooms, his eyes fuzzy with black mold.

Aizawa stands from the desk chair and goes to turn off the lights.

It’s worse in the dark. He mixes into it. The chair squeaks as he sits back down. When you’re peering into the darkness like this your eyes feel like moons.

Hawks has soft curls in his hair. You brush them back from his forehead as he naps. His breath fans against your neck.

“You’re having trouble sleeping.” The frown on your face deepens. Aizawa has a habit of saying things you don’t want to hear. “Try closing your eyes instead of glaring at me.”

“The staple was an accident.”

It’s too dark to see what he’s doing but he doesn’t respond. It’s a dry sort of silence.

“Can you at least turn the lights back on?”

The chair squeaks again and the bedroom door is opened. The hallway of Aizawa’s home is filled with light, it spills into this guest room and turns the carpet yellow. You sit up. He’s left the room, the door ajar, in silence.

You close your fingers around the covers, rub against the fabric. Spit gathers in your open mouth.

He returns a couple moments later. He lumbers towards you and your blankets, the ceiling brushing the top of his head. Smaller and smaller you become the closer he gets; you keel over. You’re in a box. He plugs a simple, little nightlight with a fabric lampshade into the wall.

It glows by his cradling hands as he fidgets with it and the outlet. All Might is embroidered on the front. He’s smiling and flexing his muscles.

“Is that better?” Aizawa asks, the side of his face lit by the nightlight. His skin writhes and wriggles with something beneath. His eyes narrow. “I thought you were afraid of the dark.”

The two of you end up in his living room, sitting on his couch, both of you with glasses of water. You make a point to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him. He takes a sip from his glass, flipping through channels on his TV. A late night talk show, the news, some kind of ad for drain cleaner.

“What do you watch?” He asks, and you curl up a little more.

“Never really watched TV.”

He grunts. You watch his slow blinks at the screen as he considers. He has black cat slippers on with bright yellow eyes, their soles worn.

“Do you like animals?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

His thumb presses the remote again, again, and again. A rather tragic moment in a drama, more news, a documentary on the deep sea. He puts the remote down on the coffee table. The narrator is going over gulper eels.

“Drink.”

Aizawa nods at your untouched glass. It’s crystal clear, the water laps at the lip of the cup like a lake. You tilt the water back and forth, watch it move. Aizawa reaches over and grasps your cup by the top, all the while watching the documentary. You slowly put it down. He lets go. You fidget with your fingers instead.

Aizawa’s living room isn’t what you imagined; he has children’s toys littered on the floor next to a rather tall, beige cat tower for his cat that you haven’t seen yet. His name is Kitty. You get the feeling he doesn’t like you (animals know bad people) but Aizawa said he’s just a bit of a diva.

There’s an open closet that contains a stacked washing machine and dryer with a litter box stuffed in there, somehow, and there are shelves on the walls lined with little trinkets, books, gifts, and pictures. Shoes are left in a cluttered heap by his front door. His boots, sneakers, his second pair of sneakers, your shoes. Little sandals and little crocs and little ballerina flats. His fridge has the ripped out page of a coloring book stuck to the door with magnets, an artsy flamingo all scribbled in with the rainbow.

You stick out in his home in a different way than Hawks’. Hawks’ place is empty of him aside from certain drawers, his fridge, his closet, and the boots he leaves by his front door. Everything is spick and span, every expensive table, counter, and shelf left lonely. He has rooms he never goes in. Your clothes on his designer carpets make everything dreamy. Your school bag on his couch, his soft towels in your hands and wrapped around you. Hawks said you brought life to the place, filled up the spots he couldn’t.

Aizawa’s home is full. There’s no room for you left. His home smells like nothing in particular and he has a TV.

An angler fish stares at you from the screen. It’s ugly, somewhere between violet and shit brown with rows of needle teeth that gnarl in different directions. It looks like it was born with cataracts.

“I’m sorry for frightening you. I should have told you I was getting the nightlight.”

You would turn to look at Aizawa, to speak with him normally and politely, but something tells you to keep staring at the fish.

“You didn’t frighten me.”

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he corrects. You can almost see his dry expression.

“It’s fine.” You don’t have the energy to argue. “Sorry.”

You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s his own fault, sticking his nose in your business.

The angler fish has found a mate. The mate is smaller, so much smaller. It looks more like a parasite when it latches onto the bigger one. It turns out that not only does it look like a parasite, it acts like one, too.

You finally manage to glance at Aizawa. He’s lounging comfortably on his side of the couch, an arm draped over the back while he holds his half-finished water, eyes squinted at the fish.

“I’ve worked with a lot of students. There have been plenty that caused more trouble. I can think of several in your class.” He sets his glass down on the coffee table. “You’re okay. You’re a good kid.”

A good kid. Hawks says that a lot, how you’re so smart, so kind.

“If I was a good kid I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Aizawa sighs. The narrator is talking about the dumbo octopus. It floats around stupidly on screen. Aizawa doesn’t want to tell you he thinks you’re crazy.

At this moment, sitting on your teacher’s couch late at night because all the adults around you have decided you just can’t be alone anymore, you get deja vu. You’ve been here before, or perhaps you’re here but sitting a little to the left, or to the right. Your hands are heavier or lighter. Maybe you drank the water or you spilled it, or both. You’re on top of your teacher or beneath.

His eyes are seedy, beady, black, moldy. He’s staring at you from the corner of his eye, he’s not focused on the documentary, he never was.

“...Aizawa?”

A little voice calls from the hall. Your head snaps in its direction.

It’s a child. Her long, silver hair is braided back in loose pigtails. She’s wearing matching pajamas, an oversized shirt and shorts with a unicorn pattern. It’s Eri, taller than last you saw her, a little bit older. How old is she now? Nine? Ten? When you were that old, you were cleaning up your dad’s vomit, not trembling in unicorn pajamas. She looks between you and your teacher.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Aizawa asks gruffly, standing from the couch. He walks over and kneels in front of her. “My student was having trouble sleeping, too. Do you want to make bubbles?”

Aizawa fucks her. You shut your eyes, grit your teeth. People call those things handlebars. He probably does, too. You grab your arm and press your nails into your skin.

You open your eyes. The two of them are holding their breath, cheeks puffed out. Aizawa pokes his fat cheek. Eri giggles. He blows out the bubble and so does she. They repeat, and repeat, and repeat, until Eri isn’t shaking anymore.

“Can I get a book?” She whispers, like Aizawa would break if she spoke too loudly. Eri hazards a glance at you and doesn’t like what she sees. You’ve never really spoken to her, but that shouldn’t be what makes her shoulders shrink. Maybe it's the staples.

“Of course.” Aizawa stands back up as she goes to fetch her book. He sits back down on the couch. He’s back to staring at you. “We’ll return to this conversation once I get Eri back to bed.”

You swallow. The narrator drones on and on. You have the urge to grab the TV remote and turn it off, but you don’t. You never do much of anything, do you?

Eri returns and sits next to Aizawa. She sits criss-cross, her knee touching his, reading her little novel and thumbing the pages. You stare at her shorts and then rip your eyes away. You stare at her tiny body next to his, how he’s so much bigger and taller. Aizawa and her are visceral.

He should be beating her. He should be pulling her up by the hair and yelling in her face, asking her why she’s not in bed, telling her to shut the fuck up. He should be bashing her face into the wall while she screams at him to stop. He should be holding her down against the floor and telling her she can’t do anything to stop it. She should be picking glass out of her leg. Your heart races.

But she’s leaning against him and reading and he’s watching TV. You swallow, stare at where they’re touching. Is he hard?

Eri has the smallest nose. She nibbles on her bottom lip, focused on the page, her eyes are still red from what must have been tears. She isn’t reading. She starts rocking back and forth a little.

Unicorn pajamas. Get a fucking grip.

She’s worse at breakfast. Aizawa tells you she has PTSD, go figure, and to just let him deal with her. You woke up on the couch with a blanket over you. Aizawa is making star shaped pancakes with Eri while you sit at the table. A bowl of strawberries, painkillers, and a fork has been set in front of you. You don’t deserve to eat them.

Aizawa touches her. He pets her head, preens her hair, pinches her cheek, pats her back.

Aizawa’s dinner table is small, more of a desk. It has a vase of LEGO flowers in the middle next to a wilting dandelion in a mug. He has placemats, a total of four laid out on the table, most of them fabric with solid color or stripes. There’s one that’s plastic, pastel pink, with cute drawings of fruits.

You finally see Kitty, too. He’s eating from a metal bowl in the kitchen. You watch him munch away. He’s all black and rather thin, his shoulder blades protruding sharply from his back. Aizawa said he’s just an old man.

“Good job. Can you go put that in the sink?”

“Yeah!”

The smell of pancakes is sweet and delicate. You can kind of hear them sizzling. Through the kitchen windows are dark, fleshy gray clouds. Eri looks like she’s having a good time, lost in the joy of pancakes. You sit and watch them.

Aizawa hasn’t sighed.

When they sit down, the star pancakes steaming on your plate, you can’t bear to eat them. Aizawa asks you if you don’t like pancakes. They have maple syrup drizzled on top. There’s a slice of butter melting in the middle. Eri eats them with the biggest smile on her face. She was better last night.

The pancakes are more beautiful than anything you know. Aizawa puts your fork in your hand and, grim as the windows, orders you to eat.

☆

Your head pounds.

Hound Dog licks his lips. A clipboard with a questionnaire is sitting on your lap, a pen in hand, and you can’t read.

The words make sense. They do, truly, you can say each individual word in your head, but when you try to string them together into a sentence everything washes away. You reread the first question. What the hell.

The bell rings and you slap your hands over your ears. Your classmates’ burst into chatter is secondary to the ringing that, now, only you can hear. It bounces around your skull, threatens to burst your eardrums. Denki gives you a weird look as he passes your desk. He hasn’t spoken to you today.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hunker down, rock slightly in your chair. It’s pulsing. You can feel your head squelch and pulsate and that booming ring pop every staple. Your eyes are going to explode out of their sockets and onto the table.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The meaningless lunch table conversations have less substance than usual today. You smile.

“The rain is nice.”

Everyone looks at you. Mina animatedly nods her head. Sero’s chopsticks poke at his noodles. Kirishima agrees with an odd laugh.

“It’s annoying,” Bakugo grumbles. “My sneakers got soaked this morning.”

“Yeah, saw you with the hair dryer earlier. You looked pretty stupid.”

“Ah, shut up, Dunceface.”

“How’s Hawks?”

“Hawks?” You stutter, face scrunched up at Mina. “He’s fine. Probably, I don’t know, I haven’t really seen him.”

Your hands don’t look like your own. Mina’s face is… well, it’s Mina, but you’re not supposed to be here.

“Oh. Huh. You guys don’t talk as much?”

“No, he—” you smile. “What?”

Aizawa’s car idles outside of Eri’s elementary school. You’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat, legs crossed, nails digging into each other. He went to go get her because of the downpour. There’s so many kids hiding from the rain beneath trees and umbrellas, their parents running up to them. There’s a trash bag stuffed with some of your clothes sitting in the trunk. Aizawa hasn’t told you whether they’ve decided to expel you yet or not, but he did tell you to start bringing your things over. Denki asked you if you were finally cleaning your room and you shoved him to the floor.

Aizawa’s holding Eri’s hand and shielding her from the rain with a black umbrella. He slouches a little so that she can reach his hand. He opens the door for her and she crawls into the backseat wearing frog rain boots.

The drive to Eri’s therapist is long. She babbles about her classes and a friend she made, mentions that the lunch Aizawa made her was really good. He nods along, his expression as plain as always. Hawks has the softest smile whenever you talk.

After he drops her off at what looks to be an office building, he takes the two of you further into the city. She’s only going to be in therapy for a little over an hour, so he wants to get some food with you. It’s then that you realize, to your horror and elation, that you’re in Fukuoka. Aizawa takes you to a KFC.

“Looking for somebody?” He says, as you crane your head up to the sky. The two of you are sitting outside, chicken legs in hand, licking them clean. Your fingers are greasy with oil. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

“No.”

“You’re terrible at lying.”

You nibble at the bone in your hand. “Maybe I just act that way so that you think I’m a bad liar, but I’m actually not.”

Aizawa sets a clean leg down and picks up a fresh one. “How clever.”

“The rain doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s hardly even sprinkling.”

You shrug. Passersby show little interest in the two of you; you’re wearing your favorite hoodie and refuse to take the hood off. With it on, you’re just a high schooler out with their Dad.

Is that what people see when they look at you? None of them know. To them, none of this has happened and you don’t exist. If you were them, you would be walking your dog in the afternoon with earbuds in instead of whatever this is.

How can they do that? It’s so very hard to own a dog. You have to get a job that pays well enough for an apartment, furniture, food, electricity, water, internet, phone bill, the dog itself, vet appointments, dog food, toys, food and water bowls, and grooming. In order to get that job, you need an education, experience, a resume, references, social skills, presentable clothes, transportation, an email and phone number. On top of that, you need the time to play with the dog, feed it, and walk it. You have to have the energy to do that, the time management skills, the freedom. You have to wake up, make yourself breakfast, eat breakfast, brush your teeth, change into work clothes, feed the dog, go to work, come back home, shower, make dinner, eat dinner, feed the dog, brush your teeth, take the dog for a walk, clean your home, do the laundry, play with the dog. How do people own dogs with responsibility that immense and constant?

“I’m sorry I’ve been put with you guys.”

Aizawa looks up from his food and stops chewing. He looks a little silly with the grease on his chin. He swallows.

“I offered. Don’t worry about it.”

He’s right. He did offer, and this whole thing is kind of his fault anyway.

No, it’s not.

But if he didn’t call, if he just left you alone like everybody else, if he just let you deal with it like you have with every other hurt you’ve been given, would Dad still be here?

Maybe the two of you could have made up. It’s happened before, not perfectly, but you’ve said sorry and he’s sighed and nodded and cracked a beer open. Once, you were sitting at the dinner table and sipping miso soup. It was one in the morning; you had just gotten back from the park because it was too cold to sleep. Your Dad came out of his room, got water, and stood behind you. He sighed. He patted you on the back. His hands were thick and old and you realized his hands were warm.

It was never that serious, anyway. You got hurt and shit sucked but you never ended up in the hospital. You never had your consciousness dripping out your nose. If the police hadn’t come, if Aizawa hadn’t called, then you would’ve just left and walked to a grocery store and looked at the colorful packaging of instant noodles. You would’ve cried a little, hid in a bathroom or two, then made it back to campus, somehow. Dad would call you and you would yell at each other until you couldn’t anymore.

But, no, you’re sitting outside a KFC in the city. Your teacher’s in front of you, a thousand strangers talking, walking, and holding hands, and there’s no good reason as to why.

“Is my Dad’s trial soon?”

“About a month from now, I believe.”

“Fun.”

He has a month. The apartment and all of his stuff won’t be there for much longer. All his things will go to a storage unit and then into auction and somebody, somewhere, will have a bathroom rug with bloodstains. Somebody else will move in and the holes punched into the walls will knock down their rent.

“You seem to be handling that relatively well.”

You wipe your hands on a napkin, crinkle it between your fingers.

“It’s whatever. Was gonna happen eventually.” A fat drop of rain lands on your nose. You lick it when it travels to your lips. Dad never got food you liked but the point is when he ordered takeout, there was a portion for you. “Probably.”

Aizawa’s chest rises and falls with yet another deep sigh. It’s like every word that leaves your mouth exasperates him.

“I’m trying to tell you I’m worried.”

“Well, I’m good — different, with this sort of thing.”

“Is that so?”

Aizawa blinks lazily at you. His lips twitch when you roll your eyes.

“Yeah—” You freeze. A red feather darts between footfall and swinging purses, a little worker drone, listening and watching. “Uuuhhh.”

“What?”

You drag your eyes to the roofs high above you. There are sparkling skyscrapers and balky brick buildings that refuse to be demolished; you’re searching for a silhouette peering over their ledges, or perhaps dangling legs. There are none.

You release a shaky breath.

“Nothing.”

But Aizawa tilts his head up anyway. There’s nothing there, really, there isn’t. Still, you grip the edge of your seat. Your fingers worm around somewhere beneath.

He always knows where you are in the apartment.

You lower your head, tell off the shakes. You yearn. You want people backwards. Aizawa’s staring at you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Sorry. Are you done?”

You blink a lot and stare at the table but not really. The issue with you is that you’re just like Hawks.

Aizawa throws your trash away for you and the two of you pick up Eri. Aizawa spends some time speaking with the therapist. You wonder if, had your parents done all the things he does, would you have turned out differently? Would you be pretty the way Mina is? Would you fall asleep when you’re tired? Would your mom give your classmates fried chicken? But you want to lick blood off of your arm, you want somebody to choke you.

There are cicadas outside.

It’s a constant buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz. That. They’re somewhere outside in the black.

You’re on Aizawa’s phone. Your eyes hurt. The screen is too bright but you can’t turn it any lower. You’re reading through blogs and forums.

Is this what true love feels like?

Top 10 Ways to Know if a Guy Likes You!

Advice on ten year age gap :/ thanks.

Well, you feel like you're floating around Hawks, too. He winks at you and tries to make you laugh and calls you cute. Yours and his is seven, but a lotta people are saying ten is okay, so seven shouldn’t be a big deal.

He has to like you with the way he looks at you. He looks so happy, his eyes twinkle, his cheeks dimple. It’s hypnotic.

Why someone like you makes somebody like him look anything like that, you haven’t the slightest clue. It’s so bizarre that you dare to think that maybe you’re not someone like you, not you, you’re some other you that he’s hallucinating from every stretch you’ve let him see and cry you’ve let him hear. You’re wonderful in his eyes. You see her in the joy there.

She likes energy drinks and going fast, likes his jokes and every other word that comes out of his mouth. She doesn’t like her Dad, she cries in bathroom stalls because of him, comes into patrol shy and quiet because of him. She doesn’t like other people, she doesn’t seem to get what it is that’s supposed to hold them together, but he’s the same and he can tell she knows that and she knows that he knows because when their tongues touch they feel. She’s something bittersweet, a melancholy candy.

You don’t know what you’re like. You’re proving to yourself you’re better than the rest of the garbage lying in your living room by being better, best, bestest. Other than that, you just got here. That’s all you were meant to do. All you wanted was out and away but now that you got there (here?) you have nowhere else to go. You never thought you’d make it or is it that ten years later, you still can’t imagine life any different? You could wear glossy pumps and eat croissants if you really wanted to. You don’t. You lie with garbage.

You roll out of bed and walk out of Aizawa’s guest room. There’s running water in the hallway bathroom. It’s something like one in the morning. Kitty watches you from the couch as you walk through the front door. You almost stepped on a little rain boot getting your sneakers on. I fucking hate her.

The cicadas are just as loud out here as they were in there. You run down Aizawa’s neighborhood street and just keep running. This is dumb. But he’s looking, watching you from the dark, always rooted in place, leering —

And he talks too much. You never would’ve thought to describe your teacher that way, but it’s true. He looks you in the eye and asks you if you’ve taken your meds, if you slept well on the couch, if you’re hungry and want to get KFC.

There’s a playground surrounded by a chain fence just across the street you’re on. You jog across the asphalt and climb the fence, land on wood chips and rubber. It’s quiet except for the occasional car. You lay down on the slide, eyes heavy, legs burning.

Eri looks happy, not always, but often. She isn’t like you. It’s obvious by the way she babbles to Aizawa. That, and she stays.

There’s something inherently wrong with you. Something from birth, from conception. That or something happened to you along the way, you got ruined by that apartment.

It doesn’t matter. You’ve been over this, had these thoughts, sneered at Midoriya enough. It’s nobody’s fault but yours and had you killed yourself, this wouldn’t be happening. You were just too scared.

You’re always too scared.

A flashlight sears through your eyes. Your hands come rushing up to cover your face and you curl into a ball, cursing.

“Get up.”

You sit up and manage a squint at the light. It’s Aizawa. He’s standing in his pajamas at the foot of the slide.

“What the hell?”

“That’s what I should be saying. Get up.”

“How — I — I’ll just come back in the morning, okay?”

“That’s not the point. It’s late. Get up.”

You don’t budge. Aizawa clicks the flashlight off. You twitch in the slide, fingernails wedging themselves into the cracks of the plastic.

“Okay, so we’re doing this.” He sits down on the mulch at your feet, slowly, like he’s old. It strikes you that he sort of is. “Let's talk about it.”

“Can you not be so dramatic?” You spit, darting your eyes around the playground and to your teacher below you. “I mean, not that I’m trying to talk, but can’t you just sit on, like — the swingset?”

He thinks for a moment. “I’ll go if you sit there with me.”

“Jeez,” you mutter. “Just get up.”

The swing set is old. It creaks a little when Aizawa sits on it. You push around a little on yours, kick your feet at the dirt. You never learned how to swing. Your eyes wander around the playground.

“Can you tell me why you ran out of the house?”

Your attention snaps back to your teacher. He hangs loosely in his swing, legs too long to do much else but let him linger over the soil.

“I didn’t run.”

“Right. So you just walked, then? Or skipped?”

You roll your eyes. “I walked.”

“Okay, then can you tell me why you walked out of the house?”

“Can we just pretend this didn’t happen? I’ve literally only spent like five minutes out here.”

“It’s more like nine minutes and thirty-something seconds. And, answer the question.”

You wrinkle your nose. “You totally made that up.”

“Does it matter?”

Your throat always starts constricting in conversations like these. You keep taking deep breaths but it gives momentary relief. Still, you huff, armpits slick with sweat.

You dig the toe of your shoe into the ground, scrape, doodle.

“It’s nothing important,” you mumble. Aizawa turns his head to you.

“So, something is going on.”

The twisting and turning in your stomach gets worse and worse.

“No.”

“You can be honest with me. Does it have to do with your father or the recent situation?”

You roll the chains of the swing between your fingers. They’re rough, porous, they catch on your calloused palms.

“No. I don’t know why I said that. I’m just tired.”

Irreversible. You’re the food in the fridge you hope to eat, the food that’s somehow rotted in the time you spent away. You cut off the bad parts and eat anyway but that doesn’t change anything, it’s still too late, you still get sick, it’s still rotten. You remember this and your face warms, you grit your teeth, curl into yourself.

“It’s very obvious to me that something is bothering you,” Aizawa says softly. “Concerning me, specifically, and I’d like to know what that is so that I can make you more comfortable.”

“There’s nothing. I just ran out because I was mad. Or, you know what, maybe I had a PTSD attack or something. Maybe I hallucinated you were gonna rape me. You can pick whichever one makes the most sense to you.”

The words punch through the air and hang there in such a way that even you can’t help but grimace. Aizawa, meanwhile, has gone exceptionally quiet. No grumbling, no scoffs, not even the usual sigh he breathes every time you fall into his line of sight.

“Oh my God, it’s a fucking joke.”

The cicadas have long since been drowned out by your heartbeat. You look over at Aizawa and he’s looking right back. Your face twists.

“What?” You scoff, wrenching yourself right back to your shoes and the dirt. “Can you stop making this weird?”

He takes a breath that seems to reanimate him.

“I’ve been sitting with you while you sleep because Hound Dog told me to keep line of sight. It’s just a precaution taken because we’re worried you might hurt yourself again.” Aizawa stands from the swing. It creaks, long, hurt. “Let's head back.”

Aizawa lets you sleep on the couch instead of the guest room. You close your eyes and listen to the sounds he makes crawling about the house.

#bnha fanfiction #fanfic #mha fanfiction #angst #hawks fanfic #hawks x reader

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