#i came back from hibernation

[tessasartori]

Y'all, remember the moment Sonic introduced Shadow in the show saying "I know what you're thinking, Sonic has a twin brother?" So yeah, It makes sense why they think they're twins/related

And then majority of the fandom looks you weird saying this when is kinda reasonable when both of them have an identical face

Sonic and Shadow definitely are not beating the older brother - younger brother allegations!

[hoi-111-111]

This game and her got me out of my full-year art block

[proxy-node-x04]

A perspective that doesn't exist.

The void of empty, digital space comes back into view.

The specter begins to walk. Small pieces of paper, tiny gadgets are strewn across the black space. It feels... empty. There should have been more here.

[ . . . well, this is boring. ]

Time refuses to pass, almost as if it had stopped moving for them altogether. No one's coming to save them and bring them back to their senses.

Nothing for them to wait for. Not this time.

[ Testbuild? You there? ]

[ Helloooo? ] A loud silence drops onto their ears. It's normal for the machine not to respond, but this feels... wrong. Something here, at the very least, is wrong.

A speck of blue can be seen off in the distance. A familiar one. One they remember seeing before waking up here. The journey over feels impossibly long...

...and yet, the patch of the Barrens is right here. Hm.

They lean down and grab a small patch of sand and drop it from high up, seeing it leave some sort of honey-colored mark on one of their yellow hands.

They move, their full body walking onto the sand.

[ What even is this? ]

Feeling the sand fall down from one hand to another, seeing the wind change where it lands- it's distracting.

Enough to distract them from the fact they've crossed over into someone else's world.

[groupwest]

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[bunny-jpeg]

bear den

bear!john price

cw: pwp/smut, hybrid!au, bunny!reader, bear!price, scenting, breeding, biting, headlock, doggy style, dirty talk, reverse cowgirl

bunny says and you'll never catch me alive!

edit: part two

to be with a bear was something interesting. especially one as much of a lover as price. oh price was just perfect all over. those blue eyes that made you feel protected and warm. that strong grip of his as he bullied his cock into you. he was a strong, with a bit of softness to him and hairy all over. he loved tugging on your little bunny ears while he slammed his cock into your sweet pussy.

the first time you met him. it was quite scary. the dead of winter deep within the woods you called home. you managed to get your way into the warmth of his cabin/den. but your mother told you to never enter the den of a bear. what you soon saw was the lumbering form of bear hybrid.

"what are you doin' here?" he grumbled. his voice heavy was sleep. he was in hibernation after all. but his cock was hard in his sweat pants. he yawned, "if you're gonna make yourself at home. it's gonna cost ya."

the curious bunny gave head to the hairy bear. a tale as old as time. but the notion of bunny cunt seemed to entice the bear and he grabbed you by the ears and dragged you back into his den. the smell of bear was a lot for you, the dominate scent even made you iron resolve crumble. the wetness in your worn panties.

'this'll do." he grumbled as he tossed you on the bed. he got you under the covers. tore off your meager clothes and fucked your bunny hole half asleep. you on the other hand were wide awake. the breath taken out of you. he got through two rounds before his sleepiness took over and he went back to sleep.

he kept you after that, he told you a little bunny like you needed to be protected. who knew what was out there, in the deep darkness of the forest. so you spent the following seasons with him.

you became his lover, he even planted a carrot garden for you when the snow melted. oh he loved his bunny. he loved to tug on your cotton tail or take you by the face to look at him while he had you pressed up against the side of the cabin and your back bent.

but when winter came, he made sure his bunny was taken care of while he was asleep. bunnies could hibernate if they felt safe enough, but you wouldn't be dead to the world if you did.

but in all fairness, the smell of bunny in his cabin didn't keep him asleep for long. you woke up in the morning, snow was pressed up against the window. but the sun shined in.

the smell of price in your bedroom was overwhelming. the room was small, but the big was large. but price's hairy body still made you feel small on the bed. so the smell of the bear hung heavy. the bed had every blanket, pillow, sweater, stuffed animals, anything else he could find to make his nest. the final piece was you. where he tucked you in and snuggled you until he eventually dozed off.

you had been asleep for over a day now, you looked over and saw him sound asleep. you reached for him and kissed him on the nose. his arm was heavy over you. you shifted in your spot and got out from under him.

but you couldn't get out of bed. as he grabbed you by the tail. "where ya goin', love.' he said with sleep heavy in his voice, "i didn't tell ya you could leave." then you were dragged back into bed with a 'hmfph'.

he snuggled you back into his arms, "you don't have my smell on ya." he grumbled as he rubbed his face up against your bare chest. there was no point in having clothes on while in the nest. you were under so many layers you were already warm enough.

"john!" you squeaked as his tongue came out and started to lick across your pulse, "it's only us in the entire area. plus it's only to the kitchen."

"no." he said, he ran his teeth across your pulse, "gotta smell like me." you made a noise as he, in tired trance, got you on your hands and knees. the weight of the blankets and his larger body kept you pinned to the soft mattress.

"john!" you whined, "c'mon!"

he grumbled something. his cock slid up and down your pussy as he tried to push it into you. you arched your back in anticipation. poor price, his head was full of sleepy cotton. he relied on instinct and right now it was directing him to breed his little nest mate.

you moaned, to have your face buried in the pillow. that reeked of your lover only made you wet between your legs. as if the leftover cum from your lover wasn't enough lube for his impressive size. he was big all over. so different from your tiny bunny self, no wondered he wanted to protect you.

and breed you.

your heart raced as he finally got his cock into you. he sank into your sweet cunt. he groaned as he leaned over you and put his arm around your neck and bent your back. his thrusts were sloppy, there was no rhyme or reason, only what felt good.

"you feel so good, love.' he grumbled, "always so perfect for me." his gaze was unfocused, his voice sleepy and slurred, "a good little bunny for me. with your cotton tail and those ears. my girl though, right? all mine? not gonna have ya run off with a coyote or somethin'. keep ya home, keep ya full." he gave you a lazy smile as our eyes met. he leaned in and licked across your cheek. his bear ears twitched at the taste of your soft skin against his rough tongue.

your core throbbed, the entire feeling. the coziness of your den that you shared with price left you feel soft and warm. you were comfortable and safe, so why not let price breed you? you were already so soft and warm, let your brain let it go and accept him.

he held you close to him, bent to his liking to have the best angle of your pussy. his broad paws were all over you, he held your throat and around your middle as he thrusted up into you.

"john." you whimpered, your focus was hazy and your thoughts dripped away like melted snow. the sun shined thought the window of your den, it bathed you in a bright glow.

"i know. i know." he purred, he blinked to get a little more awake, "so small. i could crush ya easily. poor little bunny got caught up with a big bad bear. now she sharin' a nest with him and letting him bully her sweet little cunny."

his words made your brain mushy.

the bed creaked under your love making, he still held you like a toy for his pleasure. he lazily made out with you as he moved you up and down his cock. he groaned, his lips close against yours, "my girl. my little bunny. i love the feeling of ya around me."

you made small noises and hearty pants as the movements continued. as he kept ramming against your sweet sex. you were a right fit for him. after all these months you still were so good for him.

he watched your focus come in and out. your tongue stuck a little out of your mouth. the little bunny had her brains fucked out, oh no! he let go of you. his hands on you as he maneuvered your once more and got you into a reverse cowgirl. the blankets were kicked to the bottom of the bed.

he was propped up against the headboard and kept you in his lap. his cock buried into your slick pussy. he held onto your hips and bounced you on his cock. he wished he could see your breasts bounce with every thrust, but to watch the sweat drip down your back.

your nest got heated, your scent bled a little bit into the air of the room. it was musky and comforting. to be fucked by a bear was something unlike anything you could describe. he just fit you so right.

"good girl."

"john."

"i know, i know." he groaned. the rush of pleasure raced through his body as it did yours. he felt the same euphoric of having his cock buried into his sweet mate. he made sure that his scent was all over you, he was certain it would stick this time.

you leaned forward and held onto the covers that were between his legs. he watched how your pussy swallowed up his cock with each movements of your hips. he licked his lips as he moved your faster.

he watched your cotton-tail twitch, it almost made him cum at that moment. he continued to move your hips, the rush of climax almost washed over him.

the two of you made love like animals in your nest that he had built for you. to protect you. his cock throbbed in your cunt and with a few more thrusts he finished inside of you.

"ah!" you whined as you arched your back. you came as well and clutched onto the sheets. your toes curled and you felt your heart racing.

price felt content as he smothered you in his pecs. they were softer and hairy. he had gotten a little thicker for the winter. you made a soft noise as you were buried in them.

"john."

"i know bunny, i got ya. now sh, time to go back to sleep." he purred as he grabbed the blankets with one hand but kept you to him with the other. he buried you back under the nest of blankets.

yeah, that sounded like a great idea. you weren't even too sure if you could walk if you got up. so with the glow of the morning sun peeking through your window, you fell back asleep with your face in your mate's chest.

-

it was spring now. but you and your bear mate have been slow to wake up for it. price still was in a tired mindset, constantly cuddled up to your partially swollen belly. you were only four months, but price still adored how you carried his cub.

he made a gruff noise and cuddled up with your middle further. his facial hair which had grown over hibernation brushed up against your exposed middle. such a cute little bunny and her adoring mate.

you ran your fingers through your hair as you heard the birds chirp outside and the sound of melting snow. next winter it would be you, price and your little cub all sharing a nest to sleep soundly through the winter <3

xoxo,

bunny

part two <3

[laurasimonsdaughter]

The dragon – astonishingly – was a surprise. Even in his worst nightmares there hadn’t been a dragon. But the chains were too well fastened to fight and he supposed that getting eaten was at least quicker than starving to death on this damn mountain. He closed his eyes, but the thundering shake of the ground as the dragon landed was as bad as having seen the claws dig into the earth. He closed his eyes tighter.

“Are you the seventh son of the seventh son?” The voice was inhumanly low and it shook the fear in his bones loose.

“Yes!” he screamed. “Yes! Cursed, blighted, whatever you bloody want! Just get it over with.”

There was a short, tense silence.

“I have not come to kill you, human. I want to offer you a deal.”

His eyes opened in shock. “You what?”

The dragon was sitting a few paces away from him, its scaly claws crossed over one another and its massive, shimmering wings folded behind its hulking back. The look in its glittering eyes was intelligent and calculating, but not unkind, certainly not threatening. It waited.

“What—what kind of deal?” he stammered, heart racing with a wild, terrified hope.

“I understand that you have been left here to die by your fellow humans, because you are an extremely rare type of human, that they are afraid of. Is that correct?”

He studied the dragon’s interested expression for any trace of sarcasm, but there was none. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well then!” the dragon exclaimed. “I propose to you this: I will break your chains and save you from the humans, and in return you will join my hoard and live in my nest.”

“I’m sorry. Join your—what do you mean live in a nest. Humans don’t live in nests.”

The dragon gave a sideways movement of its massive head, scales glinting in the sun. “There is plenty of room. It used to be a cavern in a mountain, of very respectable depth and dimensions, but during one of my hibernation some humans built a castle on top of it, so it is very suitable for humans.”

He was almost baffled enough to no longer be scared. Almost. “What happened to the people who built it?”

The dragon, somehow, managed to arch a nonexistent eyebrow. “They live there,” it replied, slowly, as if it feared that he was rather slower on the uptake than expected. “That was the start of my hoard, you see.”

He hadn’t misheard it. It did say ‘hoard’. “But...dragons hoard gold, jewels, riches…”

“Uninspired amateurs,” the dragon sniffed. “All very well for one’s hatchling years, but honestly.” The glittering eyes squinted down at him. “Do you not want to join my hoard?”

“I…” Living in a castle with a dragon for a protector sure beat being chained to a rock by feral townsfolk, there was no doubt about that. And what other choice did he have? He swallowed. “I do.”

“Wonderful!” Joyful sparks snapped off the dragon’s jaw as it gracefully leapt upright. “I shall do away with those pesky chains.” And he came towards him with remarkably light steps.

“Do you live very far away?” he blurted out, nervously watching the dragon as it studied the iron rings hammered into the stone. “Will I be able to—I cannot just leave my brothers behind!”

The dragon, who had just crushed one end of the chain to warped bits of broken iron in its claw, looked up distractedly. “Whatever are you talking about? All your brothers are at my nest already. Who do you think told me where to find you?”

His heart leapt in his chest. He didn’t even notice the heavy weight of the chains fall away as they slid to the ground. “You...you’d want to keep my brothers too?”

The dragon made an indignant noise, bowing down low and motioning rather impatiently for him to climb on its back. “What kind of dragon do you take me for! I must have the whole set.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Sebek Zigvolt: Cold-Blooded

Peeled Cucumbek... ... Why does the groovy look like Trey's... They're not beating that crack theory about them being cousins anytime soon.

afihlaeoyvfafaefi ALSO I THOUGHT I WAS BUGGIN' OUT WHEN I SAW WHAT HIS HEADBAND SAID 😭 LIKE WDYM IT SAYS GoooИ... (I assume as in, "underling" but... ugggggh OTL)

Rise and Shine!

“Erm… Is that you, Sebek?”

You almost couldn’t recognize him when you walked into his room. Tall, imposing, strong—these were all far from the words that came to mind at the blanket burrito before you.

Sebek was curled into himself and cocooned in his comforter. Without the copious amounts of hair gel to tame his unruly hair, it stuck up as if he had been fried by his lord's lightning. He was not a fearsome warrior, but a shivering mass in the brisk morning, some poor creature rudely awoken from its hibernation.

"D-Do not cast your eyes upon me, HUMAN!" Sebek gritted out, pulling his blanket over himself. "I have not yet made myself presentable!!"

Your eyebrows jutted up.

He's acting like a shy school girl...

You tutted as you approached, gingerly taking a corner of the blanket. The mound moved away, as if embarrassed. "It's okay. Whether it's hair up or hair down, full uniform or pajamas, you look good either way."

"WH-WHAT!!?!" Sebek's booming voice cut through the cloth that hid him. He emerged from behind it like a crocodile's head poking out from the waters. His complexion had been left terribly pink with embarrassment. "You do not know what you speak of! T-To utter such intimate words with such ease... HOW BRAZEN CAN YOU POSSIBLY BE?!"

"I just call it like I see it. It's not so difficult." You shrugged. "By the way, are you cold? You haven't taken off that blanket since I came in to check on you."

"Absolutely not!! Something as insignificant as the temperature could never affect my... m-m-my... m- AH-CHOO!!"

A sneeze punctuated the end of his sentence. An awkward silence descended.

"... What was that you were saying?"

Sebek sniffed. He quickly glanced away, attempting to salvage his tattered pride. "... Perhaps I am. What of it? I am descended from a cold-blooded species of nocturnal fae, so this is a trait that naturally comes to us!"

"It's nothing to be ashamed, of, Sebek." You stifled an amused laugh. "But as it so happens, I know the perfect way to pass on body heat and to help you properly wake up."

"You know of such a useful technique?" He straightened, suddenly alert--like a guard dog that sensed a trespassing squirrel. "Well, what is it? OUT WITH IT, HUMAN!"

"It's... this!"

Sneak attack...!

You lunged at Sebek from behind, wrapping your arms around him. An embrace, ensnaring. Your torso and face pressed into his back--the warmth radiating off of him mixing with yours. You could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest, picking up the pace like a war drum signaling a charge.

Sebek immediately launched out of bed, shedding his blanket like a second skin. He gaped at you, back hugging the far wall, eyes wide with alarm. Heat flooded his cheeks and ears, turning them as red as the painted roses in Heartslabyul.

"I-I-AM-SUFFICIENTLY-WARM-NOW!!" Sebek stiffly thundered. "I-IF YOU WILL E-EXCUSE ME, I MUST MAKE HASTE TO THE WASHROOM TO PREPARE FOR CLASS!!"

"Alright," you replied nonchalantly. "I'll wait here for you to get ready. No rush."

Oh, he rushed.

Sebek barged right past you and into the hallway. Stomp, stomp, stomp. He stormed into the Diasomnia washroom and immediately found an avaliable sink.

Twisting a knob (and nearly snapping it off in the process), he summoned running water. Cupping his hands under the faucet, he thoroughly splashed himself. Once, twice, thrice.

As icy as the water was, he still he burned, skin itching, as though there was a flame dancing in his veins. His blood, no longer cold.

[thebestsetter]

Isagi loves your thighs. And even though he isn't the type of guy to answer "personality" when asked "Boobs, thighs or ass?", he doesn't want to outright say how attracted he feels to them, mainly because he doesn't want you to think he only cares about your body (even though you know he doesn't).

So, imagine how heavenly it felt the first time he got to sleep on your lap. He remembers it as if it happened yesterday.

He had come home after a tough day of practice, in which his coach seemed even more angry than usual and just determined to make the whole team's day a living hell. Everything in him was aching, from his back to his feet, and he could swear he had a fever or something, because his head was starting to throb too. All Isagi wanted to do was get home and lay down, even if it means sleeping without showering (which shows just how tired he was).

"Honey? You're home!" he heard you saying from the kitchen "Welcome home!"

He tried to answer your sweet voice welcoming him home. He really did. But his mouth just wouldn't answer his brain's commands. So, he was just standing, staring at you with his mouth wide open, looking like an idiot.

"Isagi? Are you feeling alright?"

He couldn't even register what he was doing, but the next thing he knew, he walked closer to you. His body was just moving on it's own, as if being as close to you as possible was as natural for him as breathing.

"Sweetie, you're starting to scare me. Do you need to go to the doctor? Did something happen today at practice?"

He couldn't resist the urge to hug you anymore, even though he was trying to restrain himself because he was still stinky from practice and he knew just how much you hated it when he hugged or kissed you without showering first. He couldn't explain it, but you looked so huggable at the moment! He took a step closer, hugging you tight and burying his face in the crook of your neck, innaling deeply and letting out a satisfied sigh. One of his hands was travelling your waist while the other was playing with the hem of your shirt.

"Yoichi!" you exclaimed, voice worried yet still not loud enough to make his head ache even more (he doesn't even think your voice will ever be capable of doing him any harm) "You're burning up! You have a fever! I can't believe it, I told you to take better care of yourself!"

Ah. So he was right. He had a fever. That's why training was so hard today.

"Hm" he muttered, still with his head in your neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment you both were having.

"Stay at the couch, I'll go grab some medicine at the bathroom."

"Noooo, don't leave me here" he said, clearly affected by his sickness. It looks like his mouth finally started to work again. "I don't want to be away from youuuu"

"Yoichi, my honey, you're clearly not thinking straight right now. But I won't go away! I'll be back in like 30 seconds. Sit on the couch and count, I swear it won't take long"

He sighed, but complied anyway, sitting at the couch and waiting (im)patiently.

You were right, because in almost no time you came back with pills and a cup of water. If there was a sport where the champion had to be the person who brought a glass of water and medicine to their sick boyfriend the fastest, you would win, Isagi thought (and that thought made him strangely proud).

"Here. Drink it up" he obeyed

"Everything hurts"

"I know it does, love. What you need right now is sleep. Come here" you said, patting your lap. If Yoichi was in his right mind, he would've blushed hard and maybe even denied at first, but he wasn't. He just wanted to rest, and he always dreamed about laying in your lap. So, he quickly grasped the opportunity.

And boy was it as good as he imagined it would be. Even better, actually. Your thighs were fluffier than any other pillows he had ever used before, and he felt like he could hibernate there. And as if it couldn't get any better, you started playing with his hair. He was in heaven. He couldn't even fell the pain anymore, and he was sure it wasn't just the medicine doings.

"I love your thighs" he admitted, a honesty he wouldn't have when he was healthy, which made you chuckle "And I love you too. Thank you." He kissed the inner part of your thigh to show you just how serious he was about it

"I love you too, Yoichi. Now, rest. We don't want the best striker of the world to be sick all week, do we?"

"If it means getting to lay on your lap everyday, I would be sick my whole life"

"You're silly"

"And you're the love of my life"

"Good night, Isagi"

"Good night, my love"

Masterlist

[pricegouge]

Omg I have achieved enlightenment: bear!Price while reader wears period underwear... No tampons to hide the blood.......

okay this isn't quite what you asked for but it got carried away lmao

linking the fic cause i haven't written for it in roughly 2k followers whoops

cw: period sex. primal play. mentions of past cannibalism. breeding kink. dubcon kinda, but i assure you bunny is fine. unedited, sorry. MDNI

it's strange how much winter has changed for you, since being with john. when you'd moved back north you'd been looking forward to the snow and the visible changing of the seasons. but then the reality of the cold had set in before you'd even set in yourself and with the hardship came the depression, the general malaise that clings to you like mold in the dark and the damp of the season.

but then your partner had made it explicitly clear that he expected you to hibernate with him and everything about the dark months got easier.

you still miss the sun quite dearly, but not having to spend your whole day locked in an office or something meant you could at least sun bathe in the window on clear days, or bask like a little lizard in front of the army of sun lamps john had gotten you in the weeks before succumbing to his slumber. you'd told him or maybe two would suffice but you'd learned the hard way his animal instincts were hardest to suppress come late fall, his need to pad his apartment with absolutely every amenity either of you could ever dream of needing during the long winter not something he could ignore, no matter how unreasonable. which is how you'd ended up with a collection of no less than ten lamps, though you weren't really complaining come february when you'd not seen the sun properly in so long you were half convinced it was some mass hallucination and you needed the artificial glow injected directly into your veins.

they were set up over the headboard on a timer, a long power strip designed more so for griswald family christmas lights than for in-home use. but john would rather sleep through 15k lumens beamed directly at his head than wake up to find you usually spent your days int he living room so needs must.

he did that sometimes, wake up. it hadn't been something you'd expected so he'd scared the piss out of you the first time he'd lumbered into the living room and barked about getting back to bed. you rarely left his side anymore, only creeping out when absolutely necessary for food or sanitary needs.

when he let you, that was.

you can't budge him. he lays across your chest with such a heavy, dead weight, you'd be concerned about him if not for the deep snores he keeps issuing directly into your ear. at this point it's the only thing that lets you know he's not faking it, either, seeing as you've been actively trying to wake him up for the better part of half an hour.

"john," you pant, shoving at his bicep as you continue to try wriggling out from under him. the bed is too soft, keeps swallowing you deeper into its comfort like quick sand every time you try to squirm away. "john, i have to use the bathroom." your leg escapes the confines first, a false hope for freedom. he snorts when you shift too far away and his hand grips tight around your hip, pulls you with him when he rolls away.

perched half over him, you'd be thrilled with your new position and the escape it promised if not for his eyes fluttering open as you straddle his thigh, embarrassment building when you see his nose twitch instinctively.

"be right back," you promise, but his hands are even more insistent now, keep you pinned to his side with your legs hitched over his hips as he wakes a bit more, base instinct kicking in more quickly than his brain can keep up with.

perhaps that's why his jaw widens over your cheek, breath a hot pant against your skin as his fingers creep up and over your thigh, hitch it impossibly higher until he can brush his fingertips against -

"john, i have to use the rest room," you try to insist, but he growls when you go to pull away, rolling until you're pinned beneath him again.

"bleeding, honey," he grumbles, as if telling you some grave news you were unaware of.

"i know, sorry," you hedge, unsure how he'll feel about the fact the he very likely has period blood on his thighs and fingers now because you hadn't been expecting it for a few more days and had fallen asleep with no protection.

he answers that doubt for you by shoving his own fingers in his mouth, a thick groan leaking between the webs of his fingers at the taste.

oh, right. he's a freak.

"john, i -."

"sh sh sh sh," he murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded and dark when they finally focus on you properly. his hand falls to your hip again, leaves a sticky wet trail across your skin as it glides lower. "just hungry," he supplies by way of explanation, and for the first time since understanding his secret, you worry about the nature of what he means by that.

it's just that he does look like he could eat you right then, maw open and lax as his chest heaves with breath. he's overgrown and unkempt, his beard thick and scraggly. it's late enough into the season that he's lost some mass but it only lends to his voraciousness, draws some prey instinct deep within you to the surface, has you fawning under him as his fingers find your cunt again.

"not gonna hurt you, honey," he promises, but his voice is tight with need and you can't deny him when he's so indigent so you let your legs fall open around him, unflattering pair of plain cotton panties on display.

the air is cold against your pussy, the wetness of your own blood chilling against your skin. john shuffles closer on his knees and you feel the hot length of his cock slot eagerly into the crease of your thigh, his warm, broad palm cupping your cunt through your panties. you try not to pay attention to the way his hand comes away stained. he doesn't let that go to waste either, licking at it almost distractedly as he continues to pull your panties off. he struggles with his own bottoms for a moment, gives up completely when he decides they're out of the way enough, draw string straining around his thick thighs. this winter has been kind to him. or maybe you have - perfect mate, keeping him fed even when he's too lethargic to cook proper meals. he's not lost so much weight this year, his build still absurdly impressive despite the long, slow crawl of the season. he knows it, too, when he's awake and present enough, at least. takes great pride in rubbing his belly and telling you how luck he was to find you.

tonight is no such night, the very concept of the king's own evidently too much for him to tackle, already reduced to grunts and sighs, his breath hot and heavy before you'd even properly begun. last week you'd awoken in an empty bed, found him sitting on the kitchen floor while absolutely ravaging a hock of raw lamb. he'd sounded much the same at the time as he does now, heavy cock slipping between the sticky folds of your pussy.

you sit up enough that you can see over your own tummy, gasp when you see how bloody you already are, red staining his skin and clotting the thick curls at the base of his cock. when he rocks forward, his tip kisses his own belly, staining the fur there too.

"John, we need a towel, at least," you try to reason, leg swinging over his head as you attempt to roll away -

and absolutely freeze in place when john - sweet, sweet john who has never so much as raised his voice at you - snarls and uses your own momentum to pin you on your belly, looming over your back until his breath pants hot against the nape of your neck, voice a low threat against your skin when he asks where you think you're going.

there are some times the actual danger of who, and what, he is hits you like a ton of lead. the way he'd eaten a grown man had certainly been one, the desperation he succumbs to in late fall another. and yet, somehow, you'd never felt at risk in his presence before; always certain that being his mate would keep you safe.

but a bear would fight a prospective mate when challenged.

your palm settles on his thigh before you can really think it through, a soothing touch to counteract the shakiness of your voice as you soothe, "nowhere, baby. i'm right here, hm? right here."

john doesn't even huff in acknowledgement, breath still puffing agitatedly as he begins to nose at the side of your throat. you bare it instinctively, let him drink his fill of your scent, parse through it so he can find his own among the notes - his bed, his home, his mate.

he's still eerily silent when he settles his weight over top of you , cock still hard and sticky with blood when it slots between your cheeks.

"John -?" you start, unsure really what you plan to say. stutter out anyway when he growls in warning, lets his teeth scrape over the knob of your atlas vertebrae. his voice is tinged with something dark and inhuman when he pulls away, just enough you can still feel the scrape of his mustache when he speaks.

"just be good for me, rabbit."

you can do little else, pulse hare-footed and nerves so overloaded they can't decide which action to execute first. john does not kiss his way down your spine as he's done so many times before, instead dragging his teeth heavily down your nape, the thick skin there catching and tugging until he hits the collar of his own oversized shirt. he groans, perhaps in approval, the odd mix of yours and his sweat caught between the fibers of cotton. but it seems you're not the only good thing he wants to ruin today, his hands coming up to tear it free from you, one long rip that would hide your surprised gasp if he wasn't so carefully attuned to your weakness, falling back over you with a jumbled mix of predatory snarls and deceptively human coos. "ain't gonna hurt you," he promises, and you risk eye contact enough to peek over your shoulder at him, get your face shoved back into the pillow by a whiskery muzzle pressed much-too hard against your cheek for you effort.

"and what about your bear?" you chirp, wiggling beneath him when he begins to grind his cock against you.

john chuckles, or would, maybe, if he had a better concept of human reactions at the moment. "won't hurt you, either," he asserts, perhaps trying to convince himself because he can't seem to help stretching his maw over the hinge of your jaw even as he says it, wet tongue working over your pulse point when he continues. "he's just gotta eat, 's'all."

he wolfs down your words when you reply too, thumb pressed against the fluttering vein in your throat as he licks your lips. "he gonna eat me?"

john doesn't answer at first, just growls when he reaches down to tilt your hips up, pulls your cheeks apart so he can bury himself between them better. "if you ask nicely."

you envy the lamb.

john's got your hips folded over his own arm, your knees braced wide enough he's wedged his own between your ankles. your arms hold most of your weight, shoulders aching because you can't quite fall forward at this angle, john's thick forearm digging painfully into your tender, crampy belly when you do. at least he hadn't toyed with the lamb like this, didn't drink down its rich blood with wet slurps and satisfied groans. at least the lamb didn't have to bite back soft sighs, squeals of surprise when this beast nipped at it, overeager and toothy.

but it's hard to draw the line at bite marks on your ass when he's so sweet after, tongue laving at the wound as he whines along with you, kisses it better with his lips sealed over your own, pussy fluttering around his hot tongue.

his free hand is just as bad, holding your cheek spread wide for himself with twitching fingers, squeezing divots into your soft flesh which he distracts himself with, pulling away to brush whiskery kisses over them and chuckle darkly when you flinch away, expecting teeth.

you want to tell him to stop playing with his food, are mildly afraid to remind him of the sentiment. "john," you whine instead and he shoves at your hips so hard you flop forward onto the mattress, feel him shuffling up behind you until he straddles your hips.

"said be good, bunny," he growls and his thumbs hurt when he hooks them on either side of your ass, spreads you wide for his inspection. you can feel his cock head bobbing against your cunt, clench around nothing reflexively. he groans when it forces a heavy clot out, reaching down to guide his tip after it, a blood hound nosing around a burrow.

"but john, i -."

he shuts you up with his dick notched up against your entrance, broad head bullying its way past your lips before you're properly ready, aided only by the thick glide of blood and slick.

"rabbits get bred, bunny," he grits, something about the cadence rubbing you wrong, as if he's explaining something very basic to you. "they get bred by their mates. are you gonna be a good little bunny for your mate?"

you'd ignore the cajoling if you could and just wriggle back onto his cock properly. but his grip won't let you, fingers bruising tight upon your hips when you try. "yes, joh - ouch!" you shriek, hand reaching wildly behind you to catch his wrist before he can spank you again. but he's not winding back for another, his big mit kneading at the tender flesh instead. you peer over your shoulder to pout at him again, get distracted by the wild look in his eye and the blood matted in his beard, painted across his cheek. he looks untamed, more bear than man. you remember the crunch of bone between his jaws, the way his other form had stared back you, blood up from his battle, undecided if he wanted to kill you or put a baby in you.

you decide for him, using your grip on his forearm to pull him back up over yourself properly, jaw tilted to lick the blood from his cheek as you beg your mate to breed you.

"good rabbit."

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾₊⊹ The Moon to my Stars.

Short Summary: After your shared night on the Astronomy Tower, he seems to avoid you. When you do meet him again—things between you two change, and it turns out loving Tom Riddle is harder than expected.

Warnings: 18+. angst, fluff, smut. fingering, unprotected p in v, soft!Tom; so soft it probably counts as ooc, slight choking, creampie, panty-stealing, author is deeply in love with this man and is utterly delusional.

A/N: I have officially lost my sanity trying to hide my utter devotion to this man. Thank you for sticking around.

wordcount: 2,6k

part 1: ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.

Days pass. Some long and exhausting, some filled with studying and revising. Your mind is occupied, clouded by the stressful nature of exam season—yet, Tom never leaves your mind. It even goes as far that you need physical distance from your textbooks—because that one night on the Astronomy Tower overshadows your every rational thought.

At this point you go outside, fur-lined winter boots leaving shallow footprints in the last remnants of the thick snow layer that once covered Hogwarts’ grounds. You tell yourself going for a walk will take your mind off your worries—whether it be the exams or him. In truth, it does the exact opposite.

Oddly enough, the scenery, seemingly frozen in time, reminds you more of him than it should. The unforgiving cold, hibernating nature, deer and other wildlife scavenging for anything edible under the freezing blanket of snow. Sun barely strong enough to make it through the clouds, occasional cool breezes sending shivers down your spine.

And yet, there is something beautiful about it.

Something you crave, something that makes your skin tingle, lets you stay just a little bit longer.

Something that makes you long to feel his touch again.

You haven’t spoken to him since he led you back to your dorm, coat still snugly wrapped around your shoulders. Back when he told you to have a good night. To dream well. To dream of him.

You hadn’t fallen asleep with a smile in a very long time before that night.

But now, doubts cloud your mind. You haven’t seen him in classes since—and he isn’t one to miss lessons. Was he deliberately avoiding you? He might have realised he made a mistake. Your spent night was a mistake. You were a mistake.

It shouldn’t mean this much to you—after all, you’ve hated him ever since you started Hogwarts. But what he told you felt special—felt real.

And when you arrive back in your dorm from your walk, passing by his coat that he hasn’t yet demanded back, you can’t stop yourself. Shutting your eyes when your hand brings the thick, woven fabric to your nose, inhaling his scent, his cologne. Sandalwood and amber—so unmistakably him, reminding you of what he told you when he wrapped it around your shoulders.

I want you to teach me. Teach me how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.

“And I want to try. But you need to let me.” You murmur to yourself, slowly letting go of the fabric and returning to your studies.

You don’t get anything more done that day.

And fuck, it frustrates you. So much, you once again lay in bed, sleepless.

You toss and turn, and as nothing seems to help, you get out of bed with a sigh.

Fetching your own coat, you leave your dorm, looking both ways down the hallway to make sure you’re alone, and then, with quick, yet quiet steps, you make your way towards the Astronomy Tower. You haven’t been back since that day.

It’s another freezing night, chilly breezes of wind brushing against your cheeks as you lean against the railing—the clear sky revealing what you came here for in the first place—the stars and the moon.

Minutes later, you’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t even notice the faint footsteps of someone approaching—not until that certain someone is standing right next to you, that is.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He remarks, voice controlled as he keeps a safe distance. “It’s cold out.”

You huff slightly at his words, recognizing the scent of his perfume even from a few metres away.

“Is that the only thing you care about, Riddle?” You reply coolly, not turning to face him. “What about me breaking curfew rules? You do usually take your job as prefect very seriously.”

Tom doesn’t answer, and for a few minutes, there’s silence between the both of you.

“You have been avoiding me.” You finally state, your breath visible in the cold night air.

He breathes out, a deep, long exhale as though he’s been preparing himself for this moment.

“I thought it’d be better this way. For both of us.”

You turn to him then, eyes scanning his face—the moonlight’s glow highlighting his sharp features, conflict visible in his eyes.

“Better?” You repeat in disbelief, taking a step backwards. “Right.”

His head sinks, eyes closed as he debates what to say next.

“I told you,” he rasps, fingers curling tighter around his wand, “I can’t. I don’t know how to—”

“You can’t what?” You cut him off. “Let someone in for once? Let someone behind that wall you build around yourself?”

“It’s not that easy,” he sneers, too turning towards you. “I wasn’t brought up like you. I don’t know how to show affection, how to manage— whatever this is.”

“Slowly, Tom. With patience. I am willing to help, you just need to let me.”

After a few seconds, he nods, slowly.

You don’t talk much after this, both of you sitting down, staring into the distance.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He questions after a while, fidgeting with his wand.

A subtle smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “I should be,” you reply. “Shouldn’t you be on patrol?”

He huffs. “I should be.”

After that night, things change. Tom tries to be there, subtly at first. Leading you to classes, tutoring you. Though you don’t speak often, he is there. Random shared nights on the Astronomy Tower after you have memorized his prefect schedule—Mondays and Thursdays.

You’d sit next to each other, watching the sky. Each time a little closer. Occasionally talk. Each time a little more. You could feel him getting more comfortable, opening up, telling you more about himself— his childhood.

It changes the way you view him entirely.

That behind his hard shell, his cold exterior, there’s this little boy in the orphanage—who was never understood, never cared for, never loved.

“You didn’t deserve this, Tom.” You say. You don’t know what else there is you could possibly tell him to make it alright—because there is nothing.

“It doesn’t matter. Not anymore now.” He replies.

It’s silent for a long time between you two after that.

“I am here for you, always.” You murmur after a few minutes, eyes flicking between your and his hand.

You contemplate for a moment.

Yet, almost involuntarily, your hand carefully inches closer until it finds his. The moment you touch him, you feel him tense, and you wait, giving him the time to draw back—but he doesn’t. Your hand—quite cold in contrast to his—tightens its grip then, and you again sit there in silence for a while.

“You are freezing,” he remarks quietly, thumb softly swiping over your index finger, “we should go back inside.”

So you do. He leads you back to your dorm, wishing you a good night—just like the first time. You want to ask whether he would like to have his coat back—but when you turn around, he is already gone.

You aren’t too sad about it—after all, it still smells like him.

—

Your nightly meetings have become a routine. He never lets you wait more than five minutes before he sits down beside you, joining you as you watch the stars. You talk about everyone and everything. And shit—the more he talks—his perfect voice—the more you crave his lips on yours again.

One night, when saying your goodbyes, you both stare at each other for a little too long. You get lost in the depths of his beautiful, dark brown eyes, and you don’t even really notice him getting closer until his hand brushes against yours.

“Shouldn’t— shouldn’t you be on patrol?” You murmur, eyes dropping to his lips for a split second, his face now mere inches away from yours—and he’s so tense you can quite literally feel the doubt radiating off of him.

He huffs softly, his voice coming out as a faint whisper.

“I should be.”

And then, he closes the gap, lips brushing against yours, first gently as to give you space and time to move away, but as you don’t, instead lean into his touch—with a firm, yet gentle hold on your neck, he pulls you closer. He takes his time with you, as though he wants to savour your taste, memorize how your lips feel against his, your soft breathing, your warmth—

Before you know it, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, dragging you after him. Not to your dorm, but to his. Just after the door closes, his lips are on yours again—not so gently this time, instead filled with hunger, lust.

“Tom,” you breathe, eyes meeting his as you part. “Are you sure?”

“I am if you are,” he replies, and it only takes a nod for his hand to tangle in your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, leading you to his bed.

As the back of your knees meets the edge of his bed, he gently guides you down with him until your body is caged between the mattress and himself. His eyes scan your face for any discomfort, any sign you want to stop.

But you don’t want him to stop.

Instead, your fingers clutch at his robes, pulling him down for another kiss.

He takes his time with you. Not quick, not rushed, not rough like last time—stripping each piece of clothing off your body with care, exploring, watching your every reaction.

And God, how you have missed his touch.

After he’s removed the last piece of fabric on your body—your lace panties—he looks up at you. The storm in his deep, brown eyes drawing you right in as he is nestled between your thighs. Then you see it—for the first time—a completely unfamiliar expression plastered on his face. Features softened to an extent you aren’t sure it even is the Tom Riddle everyone else feared you are dealing with. Eyes not having their usual harshness to them, lips curled into an almost-smile. And if you weren’t really, really delusional and completely mesmerized merely by the sight of him so eager for you, you would think—he looks as though he felt for you just as deeply as you did for him.

He lowers his head to press a single, gentle kiss to your inner thigh, one arm keeping you spread open for him. In the same moment, you feel two of his fingers gently swiping through your folds before they press against you, entering your already slick walls without much effort. A gasp from you is accompanied by a shaky breath against your thigh from his side as he hilts himself knuckle-deep, curling his fingers perfectly to brush against your most sensitive spot inside of you.

“Please— God, please, Tom.” You whimper, bucking your hips against his hand—anything to get him to move.

“Shh. You told me to take it slow. Want to take it slow with you this time.”

So, gently, he withdraws again, thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit as he sets a steady rhythm, fingers pumping into you slowly, his other hand making sure you stay spread open for him.

And although it’s slow, almost too slow, you feel the familiar knot in your lower stomach tightening, whimpering as he trails kisses down your inner thigh.

“You think you are ready for me?” He asks, eyes meeting yours.

“Yes, Tom. Please, I need you.”

He’s undressing so quickly it’s hard to follow, first the thud of his belt hitting the floor, then piece after piece of his clothes discarded somewhere near the bed. Apparently you aren’t the only one who’s been craving this.

He’s kissing you again when he’s done, leaning over you, your legs wrapped around his waist—feeling his tip swipe through your folds, collecting your arousal before he nudges against your entrance.

“Please, Tom.”

His restraint shatters.

He pushes inside of you, slowly, splitting you apart on his length. You gasp at the stretch, quickly muffling the sound with your lips on his once more.

You don’t want it to stop—you don’t want him to stop.

“God, you are tight,” he breathes shakily, wiping a strand of hair from your face. “Feel so good wrapped around me like that.”

He pauses briefly when he’s buried to the hilt, letting you adjust for a moment before he pulls out halfway, thrusting back inside.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “This okay?”

More than okay.

“Tom— please—”

Concern is visible on his face. “I didn’t hurt you last time, did I? I thought I might have.”

It’s sweet. So sweet he cares. But God, not now. Not now when he’s so deep, ridding you of any sanity you have left. You just need him to move.

“Tom. Please.”

He nods, exhaling another shaky breath, finally, finally setting a steady rhythm. Your nails dig into his back, urging him closer, deeper, anything.

More, more, more. You need more of him.

You haven’t realised how starved of his touch you were until now.

He knows, he can sense it. Hips snapping against yours faster, reaching deeper, pushing into you just at the right angle—you want to ask him how he knows all of this. How he can be so perfect at everything he does, how he can be so infuriatingly handsome—

“I am going to— fuck, Tom—“

Lips on yours. Hand around your throat, pressing down just tight enough to make you feel light-headed. Other hand kneading at your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

You shatter. Break. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm rips through you, walls fluttering wildly around his thick cock, milking him. Your thighs tremble, keeping him close, keeping him right where you need him—buried deep inside of you.

He fucks you through it, helping you through your aftershocks, and with a final, deep thrust, he spills inside of you, his release painting your walls white.

Both of you stay like this for a while. Silence as your fingers swipe through his dark curls, over his back, keeping him close. So close. You don’t want to let go when he finally gets up.

Tom comes back with a wet towel, cleaning between your thighs before he hands you your clothes.

And you would put them on—if there wasn’t something missing.

“Where are my panties?”

His lips contort into a smug grin.

“Don’t know what you are talking about.”

You sigh.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” Yes, full name. “That’s the second pair.”

He doesn’t do more than smile, getting into bed beside you, arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.

Well, in that case. One more pair lost wouldn’t mean the end of the world.

It’s just a few minutes later when you feel your eyelids getting heavy, ready to drift off to sleep, lying on his chest.

You feel him place a soft kiss on top of your head.

“I love you.” He whispers, and suddenly you think you may already be dreaming.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“I love you too, Tommy.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

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[tldrthor]

five more minutes | steve rogers

Summary: Steve marvels at his sleepy girl // established relationship fluff, fem!reader, no use of (y/n) // word count: 1k

enjoyed? please like/reblog! you can find my masterlist here <3

Steve Rogers had never been a man who slept easily. It hadn’t been that way since he was a baby, keeping his poor mother awake through all hours of the night. As he grew, sleep never came easily — too many battles, too many scars, and the weight of the world on his shoulders from the moment he learned that to exist was to fight.

These days, the losses of everyone and everything pressed on him like a boulder, something he could never outrun. No, to sleep was to confront — and Steve had done enough confronting for a lifetime.

Most of his fellow Avengers knew the sting of restless nights. They understood that sleep, with its blank slate, was a risky thing — a place where the cruelest parts of their minds could take hold. Steve’s dreams were never kind. He often dreamed of Bucky falling from the train, of his mother lying on her deathbed, or of you — you, lying in a pool of crimson blood.

He flinched as that particular memory resurfaced. The day he thought he’d lose you. His eyes flicked to your sleeping form, cocooned in the duvet like a hibernating creature. Sometimes, he wondered if this was all real or if it was just a dream — a dream he was overdue to wake from.

You were so serene, so untouched by the world’s cruelty. It struck him again, how remarkable it was that after all you’d been through, sleep was still a sanctuary for you. He felt a pang of envy. You were able to rest in ways he couldn’t. Your face was peaceful, your breath slow and steady, while his thoughts raced like an out-of-control train.

Watching you fall asleep each night was like witnessing a miracle. You had this routine, a rhythm he had come to cherish. It was small, simple things — filling your water bottle, turning off the lights, and whispering “I love you, sleep well” before you sank into the comforting embrace of the night.

You had once asked him, “Does it bother you that I sleep so much when you don’t? Do you wish I joined you in the early hours of the morning?”

Even now, that question made him smile. He remembered you, stumbling out of bed hours after him, his oversized pajamas swallowing you whole. It made his chest swell with pride — this little thing with messy hair and a habit of stealing his clothes was his. He got to be there with you, cradling you while you slept, listening to your soft snores.

He could still feel the gentle pressure of his hands on your sleepy face, rubbing the exhaustion from your barely open eyes. He’d kissed the top of your messy hair, holding you close as he whispered, “I love you as you are, my sleepy girl.”

He was the luckiest man alive, and he knew it.

But sometimes, when the sun was just starting to rise, and he had to wake you up, that luck felt like a curse. He couldn’t help it. You were so peaceful, so content in your little cocoon of warmth and softness. The moment he dared disturb that tranquility, you became a beast to tame — his beast, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, kneeling beside the bed. His fingers gently stroked your hair, watching you stir. “It’s time to wake up. We’ve got training in an hour.”

A soft, incoherent noise escaped you as you buried your face deeper into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”

He couldn’t help but laugh. Same script, same lines. “Angel,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’ve already had five more minutes than I should’ve given you.”

You leaned into his touch but didn’t open your eyes.

“I don’t want to go,” you groaned, wrapping yourself tighter in the duvet.

He sighed but grinned, moving to open the blinds. Sunlight poured into the room, bathing the bed in a warm, golden glow. You, of course, immediately buried your face deeper into the covers, a little mound of resistance.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, gently pulling the duvet away from your eyes. “Come on, sweet girl. You know you have to get up.”

And then — the bargain. He saw it coming a mile away, heard the seductive lull of your voice as it lured him in.

“Come back to bed,” you coaxed, your voice thick with sleep. “We can cuddle.”

Damn you.

“Can’t, baby. You know how much I’d love to,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice strong as he planted soft kisses on your forehead, your temple, your cheek. “Come on, time to get up.”

A dramatic sigh came from beneath the covers. “You’re so mean.”

Ah, the anger phase. His least favourite.

“I know, sleepy girl,” he replied in a mock-somber tone, unable to resist the playful tease. “Open those pretty eyes for me. Let me see them.”

One eye cracked open, barely a slit. Success. “There she is.”

Before he could celebrate, that eye shut again. Of course. He checked the time—training was fast approaching, and he had promised you he’d give you enough time to get ready. But what could he do? The sleepy beauty before him was winning the fight — again.

He checked his phone, his impulsive fingers moving quicker than his rational, captain brain could stop them -- a quick text to Sam and an instant response:

Can you cover training this morning?

Sure thing. I’ll put them through their paces ;)

With a satisfied smile, Steve kicked off his boots and climbed over you, slipping back under the covers. You stirred slightly, one eye cracking open to assess the disruption.

“What doing?” you mumbled groggily.

“Shh, my sleepy girl,” he whispered, fitting himself into your warm space. You immediately relaxed, a grin spreading across your face at your unexpected victory. He pressed a kiss to your neck, pulling you closer. “Just five more minutes.”

This fic came to me suddenly even though it wasn't on my radar at all! Hope you all enjoy. Reminder you can join my taglist via the google form here <3

Masterlist

[moonstruckme]

pls hear me out 🙏🙏 vampire!james is recently turned and doesn’t feed cause he’s such a sweetheart he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

reader notices how weak he is and finds out he hasn’t been feeding and basically offers herself to him and it’s just really comforting and cute

Babe I hear you !!! I hear you soooooo clear (the voices omg, I was so excited to write this). Thank you for requesting!

cw: blood mention

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

James never had a problem with eating animals before he became a vampire. You pointed this out to him, once, but he only said it’s different. You suppose it is. The chicken nuggets he used to devour came to him cooked, fried, and with sauces, utterly unrecognizable from what they’d once been. There’s no separating the live-ness from what James has to eat now. 

You spy on him over the top of your book. He’s sitting on the other end of the loveseat with your feet in his lap, massaging your arches through your thick socks while he watches a football match on the telly. His dusky skin had paled after he was turned a few weeks back, but he looks even paler than that now. If he were still human you’d think he was anemic. It’s four in the afternoon, and your ball-of-energy boyfriend looks as tired as if he’s ready for bed. 

“Jamie,” you say, and he squeezes your heel to indicate he’s listening, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, lovely, yeah.” 

“Have you been feeding?” 

James stiffens at the term. “Mm, why do you ask?” 

It’s as close as he thinks he can get to a non-answer, and it’s an answer for you anyways. James can never stand to lie to you. It’s terribly endearing. 

You turn your foot to poke his abdomen. “I can hear your stomach growling.” 

His lips curve. He glances at you. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

“Really? How does it work?” 

“I don’t actually have a clue.” James smiles, which was your aim. He’s been far too downcast for your liking, his new condition entirely to blame. 

“Well, you’re looking pale.” 

“I’ve been pale.” 

“Paler than pale.” You set your book on the side table, moving closer to him. You sit with your feet folded under you. “Also, you haven’t been going out to feed like you used to.” 

James finally looks a bit sheepish. You smile and cup his face in your hand. Though he knows you know, James has still been a tad secretive about the vampire business around you. He sneaks out after he thinks you’re asleep. You’ll hear the front door open and shut when he leaves and then again when he comes back, the kitchen tap running as he cleans himself up. You wish he’d just use the shower. You don’t mind him walking through your bedroom with blood and dirt on him if it means he gets to feel clean when he slips back into bed with you. 

You rub your thumb over his cheek. “What’s keeping you?” 

He sighs. His face weighs a bit heavier in your palm. You think this must be progress, and you repeat your ministrations to his cheek to encourage it. 

“Everything’s hibernating,” says James, a quiet shame underlying his tone. “The…things I used to feed from are gone, and I’m not left with a lot of choices.” 

You hum. “Well, you’ve gotta eat, Jamie.” 

He hesitates, and you give him your sternest look. 

“You do. What about the deer?” 

“They’re harder to catch. And…I…I just feel bad, you know?”

You nod. Take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. Your poor sweetheart. You know James hasn’t killed anything he’s fed from, but even scaring them and potentially hurting them for the time it takes him to feed rattles him terribly. He’s too good, good and kind down to his core, but you know he’s going to have to find some way to cope other than starving himself. 

“What about people?” 

James’ eyes round behind his glasses. “Wha—no, I—”

“I wouldn’t mind you using me.” 

He seems to falter for a moment. His thick brows draw together in stages, from disbelief to confusion and back again. “Angel,” he says, “I couldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because, it’s—it would be—” 

“Or maybe we could try someone else. Someone bad, like a corrupt politician or one of those people who siphons money away from charities.” 

“No.” 

“Then we’re back to me.” You smile at him, one part teasing and two parts genuine. “James, I want to. I don’t like seeing you like this, and I really don’t think I’d mind it.” 

James looks like he’s still having trouble processing. “You don’t think you’d mind?” 

“I don’t,” you repeat patiently. “I’m sort of curious, actually. It could be fun.” 

He looks, to your surprise, like he might actually be considering it. He’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if it’d be fun, angel.” 

“That’s okay,” you promise him. “I want to do it for you. You’re hungry, yeah?” You try to make your voice serene and persuasive, your hand coasting up and down his arm. “Let me help.” 

James looks you in your eyes. You hold his gaze. After a while, the fight seems to go out of him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. 

“Oh, baby.” You kiss him on his cheek, your heart bulging. “You won’t. It’ll be fine. How do you want me? Hair up?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s good the way it is. I think, um, it might be easier if you were in my lap.” 

“Okay.” You grin, lifting your thigh over his so you’re straddling him. His hands settle on your hips. “Are you romancing me? Is this part of it?” 

James lifts the corners of his mouth, but you can see the trepidation lingering beneath his smile. You do your best to soothe it away with your hands on his shoulders. 

“I want to be gentle with you,” he says.

“I bet you say that to all your victims.” 

“Sweetheart…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You’re nervous. You kiss his nose in apology. 

“If I hurt you—if you don’t like it for any reason, I want you to squeeze my shoulder. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod, trying to look certain. “Does it usually hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” James admits. “With animals, they don’t usually…move much after I’ve bitten them. I’m not sure if it stuns them or what.” 

“I’ll report back,” you say seriously. You glance down at the couch cushions. “Will it be messy? Should we go to the bathroom or something?” 

“No, I’m—I’ve gotten better at it. We should be fine here.” 

You smile at him, your pride genuine. “Sounds good.” 

James is starting to look worried again, so you kiss him. On the lips, as sweet as you can muster, and imagine all your love pouring through it. Then, you pull your hair to one side and bear your neck. 

His pupils splay out.

“Remember to squeeze my shoulder.” He sounds hoarse. One of his hands slips up your back to steady you beneath your shoulder blades. 

“I will,” you vow. 

James looks dazed, almost reverent. He wets his lips, and when he opens his mouth you see his tongue skim over pointed teeth. Some prey animal’s instinct sends a shiver of fear through you. Your blood hums with anticipation. But just before James’ teeth skim your neck, he pauses. 

“Jamie.” It’s soft, a murmur, a plea. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want with me.” 

He makes a quiet sound, like a sigh or a whine, and closes the gap. 

At first, it’s only like he’s kissing you. He’s exceedingly sweet about it, lips opening warmly over your skin, his tongue pressing over your artery as though testing the waters. He splays his palm wide over your back in silent warning before his teeth sink into you. 

There’s a sting, but you were ready for it. You keep yourself from wincing, from doing anything that would make James move away, and after a second the pain dulls. Everything does, except for the extraordinary feel of James’ mouth on you. 

“Oh.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, head lolling further to the side to give him better access. You want more, more of this, more of him. Your brain fuzzes and your heart pounds, every nerve in your body narrowing its focus to where James is sucking at your neck, lapping you up. 

You wind your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, and his palm coasts up your back comfortingly. You feel molten, spectacularly, transcendently languid, like you could press your fingertips to his shoulders and they’d melt right in. You don’t, not wanting him to misinterpret it as your signal and stop, but after a while James’ arms are the only thing keeping you from tipping sideways onto the couch, and he stops anyway. 

He finishes with a few chaste kisses, and you think giddily that you weren’t too far off about the romancing. 

“Y’okay, lovie?” he mumbles into your skin. 

You hum in reply. 

James presses one more sweet kiss to your neck, almost a thank-you. He seals the wound with his tongue. A giggle bubbles out of you, one shoulder coming up to ward him off. 

“Sorry,” you say to James’ surprised look. Your head is starting to clear. “That part tickled.” 

His grin splits his face, one part tentative and two parts relieved. “Yeah? Are you really okay?” 

“Super okay,” you promise him. You can’t help grinning. “You were right, it didn’t hurt. That was nice.”

James’ expression eases, some mix of relief and interest in his gaze. “Was it actually?” 

“Mhm. I would be your blood donor any time, really.” 

James scoffs, but he’s clearly elated. He strokes from your hip to your ribs with a big hand, trailing tender kisses up to your cheek. You’re thrilled to see how much more energy he already has. 

“I don’t know about that,” he says in between kisses. “I’d still rather not make you my victim if I can help it.” 

“I didn’t feel like a victim, if that helps.” Your words go mushy as he reaches your lips, but you keep talking, wanting to make your point. “I just mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe when you’re lacking in other options.” 

“Mm, maybe. What was it like?” 

“Like a really good kiss.” 

James backs up from you to give you a dubious look. “Better than the ones I give you normally?” 

You grin. “Maybe a little.” 

His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open, curving on one side. “Oh, yeah? Bold claims.” 

“I don’t know if you can compete with whatever vampire magic that was, Jamie.”

“My kisses are very magical. It seems like I may have to remind you how good they really are, though.” 

You shrug coyly. “If you think you can top that, you’re welcome to try. I mean, you’re really only competing with your—”

James is on you before you can finish.

[hyunjincanraptoo]

when i'm with you

This is the result of a sleep deprived girl who slept 10 uninterrupted hours last night. Also, reader has curly hair cause I came up with this idea while doing my curls this morning. But even if your hair isn’t curly, please still read this fic, I’m sure it will melt your heart 💜

Word count: 659

No warnings

Alexa, play when i'm with you by vaultboy

Hyunjin had never been a deep sleeper. At least since he debuted. The constant travel, late night schedules, and the unpredictability of idol life had trained his body to stay on high alert, even when exhaustion pressed down on him. But with you, it was different.

Wrapped in your sheets, the warmth of your body close to his, Hyunjin didn’t just sleep— he melted into the mattress. No tossing, no turning, no half-awake moments of checking his phone. Just pure, uninterrupted rest.

So when he finally woke up, groggy and disoriented, it took him a second to even remember where he was. He had just come back from tour, and waking up in your bedroom was something he wasn’t quite used to anymore. The golden morning light seeped through the curtains, filling the bed with soft shadows. He blinked slowly, shifting under the blankets, his mind sluggish. His face felt weirdly tense from pressing into the pillow for hours. Frowning, Hyunjin sat up, rubbing his eyes. Your side of the bed was cool, empty. A faint sound of water running reached his ears, and after a long yawn, he stumbled out of bed to follow it.

The bathroom door was slightly openopen, steam curling into the air. Inside, you stood in front of the mirror, your skin still fresh from your shower, fingers moving through your curls as you started your hair routine. The scent of your conditioner mixed with the warmth of the room, creating a familiar, comforting atmosphere.

Hyunjin leaned against the doorway, still looking half a sleep, his hair a mess of locks sticking out in different directions. You caught his reflection in the mirror just as he let out another yawn. You chuckled, “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty”. He furrowed his brows, touching his face as if trying to make sense of your words. That’s when you noticed the way his skin was marked up by creases from the pillow on one cheek, his lips slightly swollen from how deeply he had slept.

Laughing softly, you turned to face him, “You slept so deeply. I thought you’d been in hibernation”. Hyunjin made a sleepy sound of protest, stepping closer until he could rest his forehead against your shoulder, “It’s your fault”, he mumbled, voice raspy from sleep, “I don’t even remember closing my eyes”. You smiled, tilting your head slightly so your damp curls brushed against his skin, “"Ah, so without me, you’re doomed to sleepless nights?".

He hummed in agreement, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist, breathing you in, "Why are you up so early?" "Some of us have jobs to go to, remember?", you teased the poor thing. “Hmmm… Don’t go. Come back to bed” "I can't, Jinnie. I'm busy”. Hyunjin hummed again, lazy, like a cat refusing to move, "Busy with what that's more important than your boyfriend?" "My hair routine". He let out a dramatic sigh, "Can’t you just skip it?".

You rolled your eyes, about to tease him again, when he suddenly straightened up. His gaze flickered to your damp hair, and without a word, he reached for a towel. “Let me,” he murmured, gently wrapping it around your head. His touch was light, careful as he started blotting your curls, his fingers moving with an unexpected tenderness.

You blinked at him through the mirror, watching as he worked, his brows furrowed in quiet concentration. The warmth in your chest spread, “See?”, you murmured, lips curving into a small smile. “You’re actually useful when you’re not sleep deprived”. He groaned, resting his chin on your shoulder again, “You’re so mean”.

You laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair in return, “Come on, sleepyhead. You need food after all that hibernating”. Hyunjin huffed a small, sleepy laugh, but he didn’t let go just yet. Standing there, towel in hand, feeling the warmth of your presence, he thought— if every morning could be like this, he wouldn’t mind waking up at all.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Also, I made a playlist with all the songs I recommend on this blog. You can find it here if you're interested in listening 💜

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. MAYBE ROMANCE IS A PLACE

Summary: Rafe is still angry at Sarah and you are his loving girlfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff.

A/n: This is my first fic in a long time lol, so It will probably be a bit rusty. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback!

Winter had arrived. As the air got crispier and the winter hibernation loomed upon the Outer Banks, the chaos and trivialness of the Outer Banks began to simmer away.

As Rafe's girlfriend, you were rather thankful that Rafe would be distracted from his ongoing conflict with his sister's friends and now-husband. You did not undervalue the few months you would have Rafe to yourself, him already planning a city break to New York over Christmas. Yet the bliss you had become accustomed to by November soon disappeared.

As a student at Elizabeth City State University, winter took a toll on every aspect of your life. Studying in the final year of your college degree meant your work was piling up more and more by the day.

Sitting in Rafe's estate home you had spent the last 4 hours hunched over the desk in his office while he was off on 'business'- as he described. You were far too occupied to even consider for a moment what he was up to, even this morning you had begun studying before he had even woken up. So when he stormed into the office, his face raw red as he clutched his phone in his hand before he flung it on the sofa to your left along with his jacket, you were startled, to say the least.

After a few moments of stunned silence, you placed your pen on the desk before looking up at your boyfriend. Despite being together for several months now and finding ways to navigate his often erratic moods, sometimes you still felt as if you were on eggshells on how to approach him in moments like this. Rafe appreciated your often brutal honesty but also your sensitivity to his moods- without words spoken on it you both knew his unstable behaviours and outbursts weren't purely learned behaviours.

"What happened, Rafe?" He was still pacing the room, the way he was when he entered the room when you asked him the question. Yet without stopping, he huffed out a reply. "Fucking Sarah and her fucking games. I swear to fuck-" He began his more than common rant about his sister and presumably her friends if you hadn't interrupted. Sarah had grown a soft spot in your heart, you saw a lot of you in her. A young girl who had gone against what everyone in her life wanted for her in the name of love, as you did with Rafe. So when he began to ramble on about her you already knew she was unlikely to be in the wrong, especially when it came to her brother.

"Okay, let's calm down. Sit down for a second and breathe, you're practically burning up." You stood up, walking over to him unfortunately realising that your work would have to be put off for at least half an hour when he was in such a mood. "I don't want to fucking sit down, I can't believe she has done this shit again." Walking away from you back over towards the door before pacing back towards you.

"And what exactly has she done?" You questioned your boyfriend, glancing towards your phone that was bound to soon be bombarded with texts from Sarah regarding this exact problem. Sighing you look back over to him to see him staring at you, rage burning in his eyes. You obviously knew this anger was for Sarah but you weren't in the mood to get into an argument with a temperamental Rafe.

"I was minding my business trying to get some shit done with the estate over in Charleston when I saw- her with her stupid pogue friends. It's like she's rubbing it in my face y/n, does she even fucking care that her friends got our dad killed? I mean they probably fucking did it." Your face scrunched up in confusion, Rafe was upset that Sarah was hanging around her friends? Not to point out the obvious but that was a pretty commonplace that Sarah would be in, maybe not years ago when she had first hung out with the pogues- but now definitely. "Not to be Sherlock here Rafe, but just to check. You are angry that Sarah is hanging around with the same people she has been hanging around for 2 years now?"

His face dropped as if you had asked if the sky was blue. "Yes." An uncomfortable silence settled over the office. You were apprehensive about how to approach him now, sometimes you could sympathise with the oldest Cameron child who had a lot of unresolved trauma thanks to his late father Ward but this wasn't one of those times. You and Rafe had had this conversation years ago when you were only friends, and since you started dating- numerous times after. "Rafe, seriously? You need to stop worrying about this honestly. It has been years now."

He huffed in response, his features hardening and stare glazing over. Were you actually serious? His father had died only a few months ago now and he had been given the burden of not only figuring out everything that would happen with the family estates scattered across the East Coast but also working through Ward's will, a large portion of it which had been left to Sarah who couldn't care less clearly. He couldn't fathom why his loving girlfriend couldn't see what he could- a scheming sister who abandoned her family in favour of pogues. Huffing out a breath, he avoided your gaze knowing if he looked at you you would see the anger rising once more in his face. "That's the problem, you don't get it at all. Why would you get how much of a slap in the face this fucking is? All you do all day is sit here doing fuck all, whilst I'm out there making a future for us and deal with all the shit that comes with it."

Mouth wide open, you stare at your boyfriend as if he'd slapped you in the face- even though it damn well felt like he had. "Are you serious? Doing fuck all Rafe I sit here every day working my ass off for a degree so I don't spend the rest of my life living off your money. Something you complained Rose did to your fath-"

"Don't bring him into this, y/n." He interrupted, completely overruling your thoughts on his words- like he often did when overwhelmed by his emotions. "Rafe, I'm not bringing him into anything. All I'm saying is that I'm sitting here fucking studying to get a job- so god forbid I don't drop at your call to talk shit about Sarah." The room lingered in silence. Both of you refusing to concede to the other- why would you? You were well in your right to call him out on his bullshit.

"Look I don't expect you to get it. It's more than you'd ever understand- too complex" He muttered, walking off towards the door, undoubtedly planning to call up Barry for drugs until his anger faded. "Too complex? Please, Rafe, you don't understand how much work I do. I think the petty fights you and your sister have, that could be figured out if you just fucking sat down and spoke about it, are too complex for me."

Stunned at your words, he paused in his stride towards the door. Petty fights? What was petty about his sister being a raging bitch? "Whatever, I don't have time for this y/n. You're being completely ignorant of my issues."

"No, I'm not. I'm telling you that talking down to me will get you nowhere. I've stood by your side for years, even when we were just friends. Defended you to everyone who called you crazy because I knew, and I still know, that deep down you are just conflicted. I love you, and I will defend you to anyone outside this house. But when it's you and I, I will tell you when you're overreacting and need to think twice about what you are going to do. And that's exactly what you need to do now Rafe. I know you're grieving still and yes, seeing Sarah with the Pogues after all that happened may hurt you. But she is grieving in her own way too. And if that is with John B and his friends then so be it. Don't burn the bridge you have any more than you already have, in the face of something that has been in your knowledge for years."

He knew you were right. You were the one person he trusted. Not Topper. Not Kelce. Especially not Rose. You had been with him through everything, and when he looked back you often gave him advice that didn't always swing in your favour- but always his. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to be in love with, so the fact you stood by his side for all those years was a testament to your honesty and faithfulness. "I'm sorry."

And although his words were short and concise, you knew below the surface level they meant a whole lot more. He struggled with showing any emotion that wasn't frustration. But his harmful words aimed at you doing 'fuck all', wasn't going to fly by under your radar.

"And what in particular are you sorry for?" You asked, leaning your back against his desk. If he wasn't in such a rage when he walked in he would have realised how tired you looked. Your hair was still undone from when you had woken up this morning, drowned in his sweatpants and hoodie he had given you years ago when you were drunk out of your mind at a High School party. Tired- but beautiful. Walking over to you, suddenly sheepish at his uncalled-for anger towards you, he slipped his hands around your waist, slightly pressing his fingers into the delicate dip in your back. "I know you do so much work for us baby, I'm sorry for undermining everything you have done for me. You're working so hard every day, and I'm so proud of you." He admitted, looking lovingly into your eyes. His eyes full of pure love for a girl he had chased all his life.

And although there was so much more to come for you both as you faced the future of your relationship but also the future of the island. You knew that right now, this was enough for you. Standing with the man you love as he moved his hand up and down your back, content.

"Down talk my degree again and you're on the couch for a week."

[kaiser1ns]

𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: in an attempt to win once again, rin is betrayed by his own children who seemed to love their mother more.

╹contents :: domestic life with rin, characters are 25 years old, FLUFF, the kids betrayed rin wopsie, personal headcanon is that when he grows up he tends to be more gentle but only for you tho <3

╹notes :: posting this and going into hibernation again , I am cooking up some fics and drabbles tho

Never in your life would you have guessed and expected that you would have a family not with anyone, but with Itoshi Rin. The sixteen year old boy who ignored your existence but always gave you his English notes. The boy who always listened to your complaining during breaks, that you are thirsty or hungry and when you left the classroom and came back there was always a strawberry milk with a chocolate cupcake on your desk.

The boy who is now your husband, a successful young footballer who at only 25 years of age has a lot of achievements — in career and personal paths of course. Winning another treble with his team, he had a break during the summertime where he could spend more time with you and the twins — Haruto and Hinata.

Rin had never thought he would be a good father, that he would be a father at all if he was being honest with himself. But the miracle happened and now there are two little nine-month-old babies waiting to be fed sitting in their high chairs.

You sit at the kitchen table, feeding Haruto and Hinata their breakfast while Rin sips his coffee, a soft smile adoring his now more matured face as he watches the three of you. He was smitten by how fast you adapted to parenthood because just twenty years ago you were kids playing house taking care of the many baby dolls you had and now the game came into life.

"He's trying to stand again," you say, glancing over at Haruto, who's attempting to pull himself up on the edge of his high chair.

Rin looks over at his son, who looks exactly like you, but can't get by without the genes and the visible lower eyelashes. "Hinata's been babbling non stop. I swear she probably got that from you." Setting his cup down wiping the mashed potatoes from his daughter's mouth. As for her, she is Rin's copy , as you sometimes tend to joke that Rin and Hinata look more like twins instead of her brother.

Rolling your eyes at his comment as Haruto took another spoon of the puree. "Well, it's good that she is trying to say her first words." Looking at your husband with this glint in your eyes that now spark and he just knows that this stare is up for no good. "But with you always staying quiet, I think, it will take her way more time to say the two syllables."

Rin raised an eyebrow. "Careful who you are challenging now." As the babies giggle and play with their food, you and him engage in a staring contest, each silently daring the other to back down.

"I bet Haruto will walk first," you declared confidently, eyeing the little boy as he was just playing with his food along with his sister. Rin scoffed, furrowing his brows as he crossed his arms. "Hinata will definitely beat him to it. She's already trying to stand on her own and talk."

Just then, amidst the 'fight' a glob of potato puree escapes Haruto's grasp and lands on Rin's shirt, much to your amusement and his dismay.

"See, even your son disagrees with you," you replied, unable to contain your laughter as you got a napkin to wipe the mess off your husband's shirt.

Rin's expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his annoyance. "Looks like Haruto is already making his own statements," he remarked, glancing down in an attempt to be angry at his son for throwing the mashed potatoes but he just couldn't. Not when he looked so cute, with his little baby eyes that were the same color as yours, it was really scary how each of you had a little copy of yourself.

"Maybe he's trying to tell us that he's ready for solid foods," You joked, reaching for another napkin to clean up the rest of the mess on your son's chair.

Rin shook his head, going to take a sip of his cold coffee, "Or maybe he's just following in his mother's steps to be a troublemaker." he teased, earning a playful swat on the arm from you making him nearly choke. "Oh, please! Just because I had detention twice in highschool doesn't mean anything."

"And why did you have detention?" That you didn't like to answer because he will again make fun of you for doing it when you were kids. "You know why, Rinnie."

He actually doesn't know because they didn't want the reputation of the school to be tarnished and kept it secret between the teachers and people involved.

"How lukewarm, and I wanted to show our kids who not to take an example from." Rin said, reaching out to tickle Haruto's chubby cheeks as if seeking his son's support in his quest for answers. A small smile playing on your lips despite your attempt to stay neutral. "Fine, fine. I may have... uh, taken matters into my own hands when some idiots decided to talk shit about you," you admitted shyly, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation.

Rin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You got detention for defending me?" he couldn't believe it, actually he can, sometimes you get aggressive, be it because of people who shit talk him, a video game, or the fact that your favorite flavor of ice cream was out of stock. "That's... You are actually insane."

For once you expected something romantic to come out of his mouth but having big expectations can only let you down. You didn't mind though, that was his way of showing his appreciation and apparently it was sarcasm with witty remarks. "Well, you know, I couldn't just stand by and let them bully you," you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning up Hinata's highchair now, trying to avoid further discussion on the topic. "At least they stopped messing around with you."

Rin reached over, gently lifting your chin with his finger to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Y/N," the tenderness in his voice and the love in his eyes told you enough. And you felt sixteen again when you got your first kiss. Leaning closer his nose touching yours, his lips barely brushing against yours , suddenly the babies started crying, interrupting the moment. With a soft sigh, you pulled away, smiling apologetically at Rin before rushing to attend to the crying babies. Rin glared at the twins for momentarily stealing his wife's attention. And he wonders, from where did they get to be so clingy?

Changed and cleaned, Haruto and Hinata played with their toys on the soft rug in the living room, as you and Rin sat on the couch, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation and not changing diapers or removing food from your clothes but instead watched Mickey Mouse Club House.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to Hinata, who was attempting to pull herself up using the fence of their playing crib. "Look, Rin, she's trying to stand!" Y/N exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice. Didn't Rin bet on Hinata being the first to talk? “Quick open your camera, if I don't have this moment recorded, I swear Itoshi!”

Rin quickly reached for his phone as you went inside the mini playground. "It's recording, calm down," he said, already tapping on the record button.

Hinata wobbled on her tiny legs, her little giggles with a gasp of surprise, she took her first uncertain steps, stumbling slightly before falling into Y/N's waiting arms.

Your heart swelled with joy as you hugged Hinata close. "You did it, sweetheart! You took your first steps!"

Meanwhile, Haruto, who had been watching his sister intently, seemed to be trying to do something. Suddenly, he blurted out, "Mama!"

You and your husband exchanged stunned glances, eyes wide with disbelief. "Did he just...?" Rin trailed off as he was trying to process everything.

"I think he did," you replied, voice trembling with emotion. Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you looked at Rin, Haruto crawling to you as you placed Hinata on your left.

Rin's expression mirrored yours as he stared at the children, phone still in his hand, "I can't believe it,”

“Me too… Our babies grew so fast, oh my I need to call both of our moms and tell them about this!”

“They prefer you instead of me...” As you reached for your phone, Rin pouted "I didn't know I had 3 babies instead of 2." His mock hurt expression made you burst into laughter.

Grinning, you teased, "Well, Haruto seems to be leaning towards Mama, but don't worry, I'm sure Hinata's first word will be Dada."

As if on cue, Hinata reached out towards Rin, her tiny fingers curling around his shirt sleeve. Rin's heart melted at the sight, and he scooped her up into his arms, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek. "Looks like she's already practicing saying 'Dada'," you said, unable to hide the happy tone in your voice. One thing was for sure that Hinata was daddy's girl and you will practice saying da-da just for Rin to have his moment of glory.

“Do you want to go to call Isagi and brag about our kids?"

"Absolutely.”

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