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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort.

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him.

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold.

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low.

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind.

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight.

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

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this-is-tiny-mia · 25 days ago

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Reply All (H.S. Fic) | Chapter 1

General Masterlist fratboy!harry x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry were childhood best friends, inseparable through every laugh, secret, and growing pain. But high school brought unspoken feelings and decisions that tore them apart, leaving both with unanswered questions. Years later, a class project challenges them to face their shared past and uncover the truths they’ve both been running from. And a wrong click unveils the past and what will be the future. A/n: omggg my first series!!! i'm so so so excited for this one, i literally wrote this sooo fast cause i was soooo excited! i hope you all like this too! let me know any feedback you may have. Thanks to my one and only @eileenrry for being my designated proof reader 💖 Word count: 3.4k Warnings: This part has a lot of angst, and the series WILL HAVE smut, so +18 (not on this part tho). Mentions of alcohol, smoking, betrayal.

“Do you want to sit with me?” Said a soft voice, tiny, cutest at it’s best. Your tiny hands were clenched around the straps of your oversized backpack, and even though you were small too, everything around you felt impossibly big—the chairs, the poster boards on the wall, the toys lined up in the back of the room. You felt like the smallest, quietest flea. You weren’t the kind to make noise; you liked to keep to yourself, tucked safely behind your mother’s legs, where the world couldn’t quite reach you.

So when your parents sat you down and said you’d be moving to another city, the world tilted. Everything became a blur of cardboard boxes and goodbyes. You had to choose which plushies to keep, which ones to let go—and somehow, even at that age, you knew those choices mattered. You were so young, but you remember it like it was yesterday. Not just because it was the first time life ever truly scared you, but because it was also the beginning of something. Because that’s how you met Harry.

So when that tiny voice said, “Do you want to sit with me?” you turned your head and saw him—a curly-haired boy with big green eyes and lashes so long they looked like they’d been painted on. He was just looking at you, calm and curious. And all you could do was nod and take the empty seat beside him.

His table was a mess of color and chaos—crayons scattered everywhere, a pencil poorly sharpened on both ends, and an eraser that had once been white but was now stained with every color imaginable. His workbook lay open, half-filled with scribbles and drawings, and across the top in big, uneven letters, it read: Harry.

“Y/N,” you whispered, barely louder than a breath, unsure if he even heard you.

He glanced up, then gave a small nod and a crooked smile. He didn’t say anything, but it was enough. He seemed a little shy too—not as much as you, of course—but just enough to make you feel like maybe you weren’t alone.

🌷

Shy questions turned into giggles soon enough. It turned out you had more in common than you ever expected—both from different cities, both fans of mixing vanilla and strawberry ice cream, and both a little hopeless at math. It was the kind of quiet connection that didn’t need much explaining; it just was.

"Can you lend me the pink crayon?" he asked, eyes focused on the page in front of him, carefully coloring inside the lines of his workbook.

"No," you said, without hesitation.

He looked up, clearly offended. "Why not?"

You shrugged, holding the crayon a little closer. "Because it’s my favorite one."

He blinked at you for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to be mad—then smiled like he’d just learned something important about you.

🌷 The class pictures from the early years of middle school began to pile up, slowly forming a little bundle alongside birthday snapshots and silly, candid moments. What once were debates over whether dolls were better than dinosaurs had turned into whispered promises of being best friends forever.

There was a problem with that. It was called high school—or maybe it was called hormones, or growing up, or feelings, or the chaos of social interactions. It was trying alcohol for the first time, coughing behind Harry’s house after taking a sip that burned too much. It was wheezing with laughter after trying a cigarette he somehow managed to swipe from an old lady at the bus stop.

There were countless school dances where the two of you showed up as best friends—even when a girl got the courage to ask Harry, and he politely turned her down. It was like a secret everyone knew, yet somehow, not fully spoken. Something unconfirmed, but undeniable. You two were untouchable in the eyes of the rest of the school—not in a popular, flashy way, but in a quiet, unbreakable one. No one ever teased you about being a couple, but, They knew. Harry knew.

You? You were a bit oblivious.

And then it happened—at a definitely not parent-supervised party—your first kiss. His first kiss. But not with each other.

"Y/N! Your turn!" called Aria —the redheaded girl who, after Harry, was the one you trusted most. She was the one you talked to about period stuff, what to wear, the latest makeup trends, and gossip about the newest hot celebrity.

You looked at the bottle spinning in front of you. Classic. You weren’t even sure why you agreed to join the game in the first place—but then again, most teenagers don’t really know why they say yes to things at parties. Especially when alcohol is disguised as “Just flavored water, Dad, I swear.”

The bottle spun in what felt like slow motion—maybe because of the flavored water in the red cup you were holding, or maybe because you were too busy scanning the circle, trying to figure out which of the guys would be the least awful choice for your first kiss. Of course, there was Harry—though at the time, you were completely oblivious to how nervous he looked. You wouldn’t have minded kissing him; actually, in the roulette spinning inside your head, he was your first choice. But not because you wanted to kiss him—more like, because you really didn’t want to kiss any of the others.

When the bottle finally stopped, the tip pointed at Phil. You gave a small, nervous smile. Not because it was Phil. Not even because it wasn’t Harry. Just because it was your first kiss. And as the group broke into a chorus of “oooh!”s, you leaned in and had it—your first kiss.

It was short. Dry. No spark. Just a kiss.

And kind of the same thing happened with Harry.

When it was his turn, the bottle also seemed to spin in slow motion—at least for you. Your brain kicked into the same overthinking mode, running through the roulette of girls he could possibly kiss. The only one you didn’t mind was Ivy—the shy new girl who was moving away soon, so it didn’t really matter in the long run. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until the bottle landed on her, and you exhaled quietly, telling yourself it was fine.

What you didn’t stop to question was why you’d been thinking all of that. Or why your chest felt tight and hot with jealousy when you watched Harry lean in and press his lips to Ivy’s.

It was quick. Innocent. But still, it stung.

After the kiss, Harry didn’t even glance at Ivy. He looked straight at you. And you looked right back, both of you smiling—soft, uncertain. No words needed. At this time it was like you both telepathically communicated. The OMG we just had our first kisses. It was written all over your faces.

As time passed and 10th year rolled around, everything seemed pretty normal between the two of you—or at least, you thought it was. Nothing about Harry felt off. Nothing seemed different. Until that one Math class.

"The next assignment will be in pairs. Choose and write your names on this list on your way out," the teacher announced. The classroom erupted in whispers and shifting chairs as everyone scanned the room for their ideal partner. But you didn’t even glance around—you didn’t need to. You and Harry were always partners. Always. It was just a given.

But then, you heard his voice beside you. Heard the sound of his finger tapping on Theo’s shoulder in front of him. And then the words that made your stomach twist.

"Do you want to be partners?" Harry asked.

Theo looked just as confused as you felt. He even glanced back at you for a second, like he was waiting for some kind of explanation. But you had nothing to offer—your face mirrored his.

"Uh… yeah?" Theo replied, hesitant.

"Perfect. I’ll text you after school," Harry said with a shrug, already moving on.

You sat there, mouth slightly open, heart racing with that slow, creeping sting of being blindsided.

"What was that?" you asked.

"What was what?" he said, feigning innocence—but you knew him too well. He knew exactly what he did.

"Why did you ask Theo? What about me?"

He shrugged again. "What about you?"

"What—Harry, we’re always partners."

"I know… it’s just..." He sighed. "We’re both kinda bad at math, and I figured I should pair with someone who can, you know… help me out a bit."

You stared at him. That wasn’t the truth. Not fully. You knew it. You felt it.

But the clock was ticking, and you didn’t have time to process it—let alone find a partner who wasn’t a complete disaster. So you swallowed it. The confusion. The hurt. The shift. And kept moving.

You tried to brush it off the first time. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. But then it happened again. And again. And again. Then he transferred to different classes entirely. Each time came with the same excuse: “I’m just trying new things.” You questioned him—of course you did. Over and over. But it was all nonsense. Every conversation either turned into a fight or ended with one of his hollow, careless excuses.

So you stopped. You decided not to waste any more time chasing someone who clearly didn’t want to be caught.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. Him sitting at different tables during lunch? Level 1. Choosing other people for group assignments? Not answering your texts? Level 2. Taking a completely different route home just to avoid walking with you? Level 3. Laughing—no, giggling—like he was having the time of his life with people who weren’t you? Level 4.

There were tears. So many tears. And there were questions. A constant, suffocating loop of them. Was it something I said? Something I did? Was I a bad friend? But no answer ever came. Just more silence. And more tears.

You weren’t technically alone. You had other friends. But you didn’t have Harry. You didn’t have the one who could read you with a glance. The one who could sense your mood from just the tone of your “hello” in the morning. You didn’t have the one you wanted.

Harry wasn’t there anymore. Not for the 3 a.m. calls when you couldn’t sleep. Not to debrief the daily drama. Not to groan through math class or whisper jokes behind textbooks. And worst of all…As time passed, he wasn’t there for your first heartbreak. He wasn’t there for prom. He wasn’t there to hold your hand when you both tossed the graduation caps into the sky.

He was gone.

🌷

It wasn’t really a surprise when you both looked up and locked eyes in the same introductory group on the first day of college.

Neither of you had talked about which colleges you were applying to. Neither of you knew what the other wanted. Because by then, communication had been reduced to absolutely nothing—0%. Silence and space had taken over. So no, it wasn’t exactly shocking when you ended up in the same college. Same career path. Same group. Because the truth was—you’d always been similar.

You’d dreamed similar dreams. Wanted similar things. And no matter how hard you tried not to be, you were always pulled in by each other’s gravity. Even if you didn’t want to admit it. Even if you swore you were over it. Even if you told yourself it didn’t matter anymore.

There he was. Harry.

And suddenly, the air between you was thick with everything unspoken.

Either of you could’ve asked to transfer. Changed groups. Switched classes. Taken the easy way out.

But neither of you did.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the silent, mutual attempt to prove there was nothing left between you. That you were both mature enough. That you could handle being around each other. Just classmates. Just two people, casually coexisting in the same space.

But the truth?

The truth was that something deeper—something neither of you could name or admit—was keeping you both exactly where you were. You swore it was you just being mad but maybe there was a kind of magnetic pull that wasn’t strong enough to bring you together, but just strong enough to keep you from walking away.

You didn’t even tried to talk to him, or even look at him, always avoiding as much as you could,

Your roommate, Juliet, noticed it from day one. The way your entire posture shifted when Harry entered the room. And of course, how you never actually looked at him, not for longer than a blink.

Juliet was bold, blunt, and had a talent for digging into things you weren’t ready to unearth.

“You two have history,” she said one night, cross-legged on her bed, spooning peanut butter out of the jar like it was therapy. “You don’t flinch like that for someone you barely know.”

You rolled your eyes. “We used to be friends. That’s all.” not even bothering to look up from the book in your hands

“Right,” she said, dragging the word out like it had a hundred letters. “And I ‘used to be’ a vegetarian”

She didn’t let it go. She was always trying to get you to talk to him. “Just say hi like a human,” she’d whisper. Or “What’s the worst that could happen? You explode?”

But she didn’t know the weight of it all. She didn’t know that silence between you and Harry wasn’t empty—it was loaded. History, hurt, heartbreak—all packed into every glance, every ignored moment.

Still, Juliet was relentless. And part of you—maybe the part that still remembered how it felt to laugh with him—was kind of glad she was. Beneath all that pain and being mad at it, there he was your Harry, your best friend.

You stopped going to college parties. At first, it was subtle. A few “maybe next time”s.A couple of “I have a headache”s. But Juliet caught on fast.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” she said one Friday night, standing in front of a mirror, fixing her hair while you curled up under your blanket like it was a shield. “You’re not going because of him, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Because the idea of walking into a room and locking eyes with Harry—of pretending you didn’t notice each other, or worse, pretending you were fine—made your stomach twist.

“I just don’t want it to be awkward,” you muttered.

Juliet scoffed. “It’s college. Everything’s awkward. You think Harry’s out there dancing on tables and living his best life?” She paused. “He never goes either, you know.”

That made you sit up and frown “What?”

“I’ve literally never seen him at a single party. Not even the ones his friends throw,” she said. “You two are like magnets repelling each other, except you’re both convinced the other one wants nothing to do with you.”

You stayed quiet, but her words stuck. Because you hadn’t considered that maybe—just maybe—he was avoiding it too. Not because he didn’t want to see you… But because he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Of course it was. He was Harry.

That realization didn’t make things easier. It just made your heart ache in a different way.

🌷

It was just another Thursday. Gray skies outside the window, students half-asleep in their chairs, laptops open but barely touched. You were already zoning out when Professor Merrick’s voice cut through the hum of the classroom.

“For your next assignment,” she said, tapping a stack of handouts on her desk, “you’ll be creating a personal narrative. Think of it as storytelling with a purpose—an exploration of the moments that have shaped you.”

You blinked. “What kind of moments?” someone asked from the back.

“Anything that’s changed you,” Merrick replied. “A loss. A revelation. A success story. A moment of heartbreak or clarity. Something real. Something raw.”

A collective groan passed through the room.

“And,” she added, lips twitching into the faintest smile, “you may do it solo, or… in pairs. Your choice. But if you choose to work with someone, the project must reflect both stories—how they intersect, mirror, or clash.”

You felt your stomach drop. This was the kind of assignment you hated. Not because you couldn’t do it, but because you could. You had too much material. And you knew exactly what your story would be… if you were brave enough to tell it. You didn’t look at Harry, who sat two rows across and one seat behind. But you could feel him. That weird awareness that never really went away.

Juliet leaned over, whispering, “You’re doing it solo, right?”

“Obviously,” you whispered back, already scribbling ideas down just to look busy.

But still, your heart thudded louder than before. Because even if you hadn’t looked at Harry, he had looked at you.

Professor Merrick began passing the handouts down each row, but you barely glanced at the paper when it reached your desk. The words blurred together—“personal narrative,” “emotional depth,” “authentic voice”—all sounding a little too close to home.

“As always,” she said, stepping back in front of the board, “I’ll be sending the full assignment details to your emails this evening. Requirements, due dates, guidelines—all there. This is not just about writing well. It’s about honesty. And trust me, I’ll know when it’s not real.” A low murmur rippled through the class again.

“You have until Monday to choose whether you’re working solo or with someone. If you pick a partner, let me know by then. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re flying solo.” She smiled faintly, but there was something knowing in her expression. Like she enjoyed watching students squirm under the weight of their own unspoken stories.

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed.”

Chairs scraped the floor as people stood up, stretching and groaning. You shoved the handout into your bag without a second glance.

Juliet nudged you as you walked out. “Maybe this is your sign.”

You frowned. “Sign for what?”

She raised an eyebrow. “To tell the story you’ve been dying not to tell.”

You didn’t answer. Because the thought had already crossed your mind. And because behind you, Harry was still sitting at his desk, staring at the same sheet of paper you hadn’t read either.

🌷

Days later, you were curled up on your bed, laptop perched on your knees, the soft hum of lo-fi music playing from your phone. The Word document on your screen was still blank—just a blinking cursor mocking you, waiting for the first sentence that refused to come.

You had typed and deleted the same line four different times. Nothing sounded right. Nothing felt right. Your story was too tangled.

And then, like some cruel joke, your email pinged.

New Message: STORYTELLING PROJECT CLASS 305 — Personal Narrative From: Harry Styles To: Class 305

You stared at the subject line, confused. You hadn’t spoken in weeks—not even a polite nod in the hallway. Why would he be—

Then you clicked.

And everything shifted.

The message wasn’t meant for you. It wasn’t meant for the whole class. It was clearly written for one person—Noah. He was asking if Noah would be his partner, saying he didn’t want to do the project alone.

“I was thinking of writing about losing my best friend. Her name’s Y/N. She’s also in the class. I was in love with her. I never told her. I pushed her away because I thought if I kept my distance, the feelings would fade. But they didn’t. I made it worse, got out of my hands, I lost her anyway. But of course i can’t mention her name or make it too obvious it’s about her so i figured i could use a partner to help”

Your heart stopped. Again.

“Anyway, It was my fault. I thought I was protecting something, but I ended up breaking it. I don’t know if your story’s anything like that. Just figured I’d ask. Also, can I get your number?”

You sat frozen. For a second, your brain refused to process what your eyes had read. The story. The feelings. The name. Your name.

And then you realized it—he had clicked Reply All. You weren’t supposed to see this. No one in the class was supposed to see this.

You blinked, staring at your screen in disbelief, heart pounding loud in your chest. It was like someone had dropped a confession straight into your lap, and now you didn’t know what to do with it.Because the problem wasn’t that Harry had sent it everyone

The problem was…Everything in it was true. PART 2

Taglist: @hermionelove

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angelbaby-fics · 1 year ago

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Daddy stucky x little reader where she loves taking naps especially With her daddies so can you do something where the little one is in a very very young headspace like a few months or a year and they are at the avenger tower but she sleeps most of the time and just wanna near to her daddies

Naptime With Daddies

Word Count: 450

A/N: ohhh this is on of my favorite concepts ever!! i love thinking about this!!!! especially when i'm stuck in public somewhere & i just wanna go to sleep, i just daydream about daddies 💕

Some babies had blankies, others had stuffed animals, a sentimental item that went with them everywhere. You were a bit different though - instead of cloth comforts, your favorite things to snuggle with were your daddies, Bucky and Steve. Any time you had to sleep, you’d prefer it to be in their arms, and if you were in their arms, chances are you’d fall asleep sooner rather than later. You just couldn’t help it, the serenity of knowing how safe you were in their trustworthy embrace, nothing could ever hurt you there. And they didn’t mind it one bit.

With their exceptional strength, either one of them could hold you for hours at a time without getting tired. When he took you grocery shopping, Steve would push the cart with one hand and hold you in the other. If you stayed awake, he’d point to the things he needed, and you’d grab them and toss them in the cart. By the end of the shopping trip, though, you’d usually nodded off, face smooshed into Steve’s shoulder as he checked out.

Bucky’s chest was more preferable to you than any mattress. The two of you could more often than not be found on the big sofa in the living room, you asleep on him while he read a book or watched a movie, your presence soothing him. If you were still napping in Bucky’s arms by the time he needed to go to a therapy appointment, he’d bundle you up in a blanket and just bring you along. He’d even bought you a cute pair of noise canceling headphones, so you wouldn’t have to hear anything that wasn’t safe for little ears.

All the other Avengers were used to seeing you sleeping through meetings. Sometimes it took all their super strength not to get distracted by how peaceful you looked in Steve’s arms as he tried to get them to pay attention to the mission. Tony would often crack jokes to hide his jealousy; Peter was far too rambunctious to sit through a whole meeting, let alone nap through one. Sometimes you even slept so soundly, you’d make it in and out of the meeting and back home without even waking up.

Your favorite by far, were the days when neither of them had to work, or shop or do anything at all. These days were somewhat hard to come by, since your daddies were so important and responsible, but every so often the schedules would perfectly align. The only time you’d get up from the bed would be to cuddle on the couch for a while just to get a change of scenery. These were the best naps of all.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #agere fic #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #marvel agere #chloe's fic

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grabby-smitten · 6 months ago

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Pinky promise Prt. 2

Part one is here!

Subjects: Bunny Hybrid!Xavier x Human F!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Content: Hybrid AU, MDNI, smut, PiV, breeding, cunnilingus, dubcon if u squint, male heat\rut, reader has female anatomy, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, idk… let me know if i missed anything.

A.N: I think writing Xavier is so much easier than other lads… for me, at least. I believe that he’s a total sex freak and nobody can change my mind. Enjoy! 💋

On the fifth day, you walked in to pick up the tray of his lunch. You were gonna be in and out, it was the best for the both of you or at least you believed so.

Something felt off as soon as you stepped foot in the room. Looking around you saw his harness discarded in a corner and no sign of Xavier. Panic began to creep in, the eerie silence made goosebumps run down your spine as your eyes frantically zigzagged across the room in search of him.

Without warning the door slammed closed and the loud bang propelled you away from it. There, he stood with a hand still on the door. Xavier was all sweaty and disheveled, a crazed look in his eyes clouded the soft blue you knew so well.

He suddenly crouched and as fast as lightning he was in front of you.

Xavier took hold of your ankle and pulled, causing you to fall to the floor, but before you could scramble away, his grip on your leg tensed and you were being yanked towards him. The scream you meant to release died in your throat as a heavy body dropped on top of you.

As he pinned you down to the freezing floor, You felt the cold tip of his nose travel from your temple to the side of your face as he kept sniffing. Deep intakes of breath down your neck, the softness of his lips alternating with some pecks of his tongue. Tasting? Sniffing? Savoring? You were unsure at this point, overwhelmed with all the sensations raining down on you at once.

Observing the ceiling and the crown of his head, the dizziness decreased as your mind began to understand what was happening.

“Xavier, wait!” But he wasn’t listening. Not that he didn’t want to. It’s just that he couldn’t. The beating of his heart drowned every other sound. Your scent, your touch and everything that made you— you, clogged his senses.

You could hear him constantly whimper as he moved down your body. Scenting every bit of skin that crossed his path. His hot and humid breath fanning over your body.

Once he was content with what he was sensing, Xavier took no time to remove your clothes. Almost tearing them to shreds in the process. No controlled movements, just pure desire and instinct driving him where he needed to be. He saw the clothing items as just obstacles in his path and getting rid of them was the only solution.

His wild blue orbs gazed at your naked figure, sprawled on the floor. Instinctively, the rough pads of his fingertips grazed your nipples. That same curious touch made its way down your body, leaving a tingling trail after it.

As if he had snapped out of a trance, Xavier’s hands roughly moved under your asscheeks. Positioning where he needed you, he dived right into your center.

Xavier didn’t even know where he was going. He only you were calling to the deepest part of him to own, to take and to possess. He latched onto your core, swirling his tongue around, over and down your center. No pace or technique. Desperation in each of his movements as if he didn’t eat fast enough someone would take away his meal. And none was going to snatch you away from him. Ever.

Little nibbles on your clit got you dry heaving, choking on hair. Your hand on his damp forehead did nothing to deter him from getting what he wanted. His lips surrounded your bundle of nerves and pulled, sucked. he did the same with his front teeth. Pulling, desperately tugging. His hands holding you in place so he could keep bullying his head between your legs— as if that would get him any deeper.

Xavier was messy. burying his face between your thighs, biting your hips and any piece of skin he could latch on so he could draw out those little whimpers and sounds you made every time he did so. His spit and your juices dripping from his cheeks and nose to his chin and ending up on the floor. Sticking to everything; clothes, skin, you and him… both.

You were screaming incoherencies in no time, voice hoarse from the abuse to your lower body. Your throat burned, not knowing if to release or take in air. You didn’t even know where to put your hands, not wanting to hurt his bunny ears but needing to grip something, anything.

The sounds he made as he sucked your juices were obscene, grotesque even and it filled the tiny room completely. You had come already, not sure how many times since he hadn’t stopped once. He just kept and kept getting mouthfuls of you without thinking of anything outside of your taste.

Xavier got tired of not hearing more of your cries, your thighs constantly shaking and constricting his head, quieting your songs of ecstasy. So he decided to fix that. He positioned his forearms on your legs and spread you apart as his palms kept pushing your lower belly down and in place. Instinctively, you attempted to close them but you found such a task impossible. Xavier kept a death grip on your body, his tongue never stopping and tears began running down your face as it all became too much, too overwhelming.

You could feel the internal pressure beginning to build up again, Your inner thighs sweetly ached and the warmth of your release suddenly exploded with more intensity than before, making you scream and wildly buckle your hips on Xavier’s face. But he was unfazed, just tightened his grip and moaned as soon as your newly heated liquids hit his taste buds.

“Please, let me— fuck— let me fuck a litter into you,” he breathed his words against your swollen entrance, your brain barely registered the meaning after the high, but you numbly nodded anyway. Anything for your bunny, right?

And that’s how his first rut went on and on. Your body handled to his liking, pushed and pulled. You could feel his elbows digging at your back, pushing you down as his hips inevitably rutted behind you. Face down, cheek pressed to the icy floor as his erratic breathing fanned the nape of your neck.

flipped over by sweaty and stinky palms. your leg hiked up to his chest and forcing his leaking member down your soft velvety walls again and again.

Whimpers left your lips through the whole night as Xavier used you, filled your insides with his burning ropes of white. Scalding your dripping cunt as the few drops that escaped ran down your thighs, pooling on the floor under both your still joined bodies.

his human, his first safe human. After all, you promised.

“So it’s completely normal?” You asked Xavier’s doctor through a call. “Okay, I see. So that means he’s healthy… I— no! No! I’m fine! Yeah, thanks. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Xavier looked down at the floor as you hung up the call with his doctor. Feeling a bit guilty about the whole heat thing from last night, but you seemed fine and more concerned about him than yourself.

“I’m sorry… I—“ but you didn’t let Xavier finish his sentence.

“No, no, no.” You surrounded him with your arms as you spoke, “Xav, hun, it’s okay. Didn’t you hear the doctor? It means you’re healthy and I… well, we both enjoyed it, right?”

“Right,” was all you heard from him but you have no idea the door you just opened for your bunny.

Six months later…

The languish licks were driving you crazy, but Xavier was taking his time. Head buried under your skirt as soon as you came home from work. He caught you at the entrance of your place, not even giving you a second to take off your shoes. You were pushed against the wall and your legs opened with no chance of denial.

Let’s just say that Xavier enjoyed his heats nowadays.

#omificstags #love and deepspace fanfiction #lads xavier x reader smut #hybrid au #hybrid!xavier #love & deepspace #omi.ds #l&ds #lads hybrid au #xavier x mc #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace Xavier #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace smut #lads xavier x reader

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star-centric · 1 year ago

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Could you pretty please do some “how they would try to court you” (not in a ABO way, but in a Devildom dating culture way), headcanons / scenarios with Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo?

PAIRINGS: Mammon, Diavolo & Beel x reader (all separate)

NOTE: Let me say this- I love love LOVE requests like these!!! Any time I can write about stuff like this it makes me kick my feet and giggle. Also sorry this is so late- life is a hectic atm 🫠

CW: gender neutral reader, mentions of possessiveness, minor suggestive themes (mainly in Diavolo’s part)

How They Would Try to Court You (feat. Mammon, Beelzebub and Diavolo) (Headcanons)

MAMMON

Mammon’s a lot like his crow familiars- especially when it comes to courting. Combine that with his sin of greed and you’re in for a time!

He’s greedy, so it only makes sense that he wants all of the time. Whether it’s just laying around in your room or even just walking to class, he’s right by your side. People are starting to get used to see him literally everywhere you go. He might as well be perched on your shoulder like your own personal crow

You start to find little trinkets left for you- courtesy of Mammon. Those pairs of earrings you were eyeing at the boutique? You found them on your pillow when you got back from class. The cute pin you says reminds you of him? It's already in your locker. The items are usually something small, but still meaningful to you

Nests!! When you see a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows in both of your rooms, and how Mammon is very adamant (ie. very nervous of your approval) that you have to lay it, you feel like he have no choice but to get in it. It's so comfortable that when he sees you instantly relax he can't help but let his chest puff out in pride (and he may have let out a coo or two when he saw how peacefully you were sleeping)

Speaking of cooing- he’s humming around you too now. It's cute actually, and it makes him blush whenever you comment on it (he even does it without realizing it sometimes, which makes it even more adorable). You start to catch it when you praise him for something, but he starts doing it even more outside of it. He tries to play dumb about it, but he's really happy (and relieved) that you love how his voice sounds (it's what he was hoping for)

He starts to flash show his demon form to you more. It stemmed from your praise at his photo shoot, and ever since then he's been stretching his wings around you. Graze your fingers across them and Mammon would be putty in your hands

Mammon has always been selfish, especially when it comes to you. It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, but you’re still a bit surprised when he gets serious about it. The nights where he asks you not to leave, where he tightens his grip around you and buries his face into your neck, he means it

He wants to prove to you that he’s the only one you need, that you don’t need any other demon but him

BEELZEBUB

Beel’s courting style is simple, yet effective!

Despite it being a while since Beel felt this much of a pull towards someone like this, he really does try his best

He makes sure you’re well fed and never hungry- he knows how he can get on an empty stomach, plus he has to make sure you’re taken care of! It starts to become a very common sight to see Beel feeding some of his food to you, which leaves the others shocked, but he’s unfazed by it. They’ll even catch you bringing you food to share and not the other way around they’re used to

Beel is also like Mammon in a way- always by your side. Whether he’s just stuffing his face or observing something else, he’s right behind you like a second shadow. You didn’t realize how intimidating it was until you started to wonder why so many people started to steer clear of you- literally

(It wasn’t on purpose but Beel wasn’t complaining)

He also starts to work out around you more. You’ve always been amazed at his muscles, awed at how he lifts hundreds of pounds with ease. He’s never been one too full of pride, but the sensation bubbling inside of his chest made him want to show you more. His regular workouts, his fangol games, practice- he wanted you there for it all

Beel can’t explain it, but putting his strength on display for you feeds into a growing urge that’s hard to suppress. He wants to show you how strong he is, how easily he can protect you if something were to arise. The fanged grin on his face when he sees you cheering for him leaves him motivated to do even more

Sometimes he’ll slip into his demon form because of how excited he gets seeing you (which in turn makes his opponents/teammates nervous)

Soft bites- it happened by mistake the first time. Beel accidentally bit your finger while you were trying to feed him. He didn’t break any skin or hurt you, but when you bit him (playfully) in return something…changed inside of him after that. He wanted to do it more- leave your skin littered with marks done by him. And he wants to feel your own blunt teeth bite into him (even if you don’t leave a mark). It’s become a cute memory and another inside joke between you both

(Even if it makes him want to go feral everytime he sees your bite marks)

Beel also scents you! He has the strongest sense of smell in the house (and probably one of the strongest in the entire Devildom), so being able to leave his scent on you isn’t a problem. Lending you his clothes (which the sight of you with them does something to him too), wrapping you in his own blankets while burying his face into your neck- you don’t know why he’s been so cuddly lately but you’re not complaining (and neither is he)

Beel isn’t much of the possessive type, but he’s not willing to share you with any other demon outside of his family. Even then, his primal urge is somewhat satiated knowing that he’s left his mark(s) on you for others to see- and plans on leaving more to show that you’re his

DIAVOLO

The Future King of the Devildom has been lonely for some time now- so forgive him if he goes a bit…overboard in his methods

Remember how he was when you ate the pudding humans weren't allowed to eat? Imagine that type of behavior but with no restrictions

Expect to be adorned in the finest jewelry/outfits you could get in all of the Devildom. It gets to a point where you’re wearing literal millions- all he does is laugh at your shocked expression and waves off your worries. It’s not like he can’t afford it- plus he wants to see you in it all! (and show you how easy he can provide for you)

He’s a lot more bolder than he usually is during this time too (not that he wasn’t bold to begin with). He’s…just not holding back anymore

He’s more open with his touch, his hands finding his way to you a lot more common now. Whether it's out in public or behind closed doors, Diavolo can't seem to keep his hands to himself. The looks you get from people when you're out together make you a little embarrassed, but he holds his head up high anyway (which you're not surprised- he is the ruler still, not like they can say much anyway)

But Diavolo doesn't mind the looks- he wants them actually. He wants people to see you with him, to know that you're with him and that nothing is going to change that. That you're his and his alone. A part of him is tempted to keep you locked inside for his eyes only, but he knows that it wouldn't be right to do that to you

But he does invite you over to the castle more, which somewhat helps his urges. You’re waited on hand and foot by Diavolo, who doesn’t mind at all- he sent Barbatos away on “important tasks” (ie. give him alone time with you). It’s adorable how earnest he is in taking care of you, even if it’s something minimal as holding the door for you or feeding you himself

He’s in his demon form too, and thrives off of your attention- to see how you admire him makes his chest swell with pride. You’re in awe at his form (which makes sense since it’s a rare sight to see), and he loves it. He craves it. He encourages you to touch his wings and have your fingers graze his horns- just be careful not to tug on them too hard, unless you want to really get him riled up more than he is now

Diavolo is also like Beel in wanting to see his marks and scent left on your skin. He shows restraint, and it’s only ever done in spots he can see (mostly). There may be a dark splotch or two on your neck from when he got carried away (or when he wanted to show others that you already belong to someone)

Diavolo really hasn’t felt like this over anyone in years- Hell, probably in his entire life. He really has become enamored with you during your time in the Devildom that he can’t imagine loving someone else. You truly have made his life brighter with your presence

He understands that you can’t stay here forever, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t become mates regardless, right? Or rather, who’s going to stop him?

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rottenpumpkin13 · 3 months ago

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Hi i really liked your genesis headcanons can you do relationship headcanons for seph and ang, thanks btw

Not sure if you came from that post, but I made one for Genesis a while ago in case you want to read it! Here's the link.

Dating Sephiroth

• Completely inexperienced in relationships and romantic feelings in general, initially suppresses his own emotions out of habit, but eventually caves for his person. He treats dating like research at first, reading extensively and trying to understand the "proper protocols" for courting someone (he's so sweet)

• Takes time to open up due to his isolated upbringing, but when he does, he forms an intense, almost obsessive attachment to his partner (i n t e n s e)

• Struggles to express emotions verbally but shows his love through unwavering loyalty and dedication. Will move mountains for his partner if needed. His partner is sick? There goes Sephiroth concocting medicine from scratch bc he doesn't trust Shinra. Partner is hungry? Sephiroth in the kitchen trying his best to make them their favorite food before giving up and ordering out. Partner is cold? There goes Sephiroth's coat and his partner's personal space because now they're bundled in his leather while being squished by a giant kitty.

• Very touch-starved but doesn't know how to initiate physical affection in the beginning. Melts completely when his partner casually touches him or plays with his hair. When he and his partner grow comfortable with each other, Sephiroth absolutely will drape himself over them like a cat, ask for cuddles, and use them as a human plushie.

• Protective to an extreme degree. Has to consciously work on not shadowing his partner everywhere or eliminating perceived threats before they even manifest….like the mailman. Experiences jealousy intensely but internalizes it rather than acting out. Needs frequent reassurance that his partner won't abandon him ;-;

• During fights, he tends to shut down emotionally, not knowing how to handle conflict in relationships. He needs a patient partner willing to help him work through his feelings and to be there to hug and tell him he's still loved.

• Cherishes quiet domestic moments he never had before; simple things like sharing meals or reading together mean the world to him.

• Extremely observant of his partner's needs and preferences. Will remember every little detail about them and use that knowledge to make them happy. That candy their partner mentioned liking in passing? There's now boxes of it in their pantry and Sephiroth bought a monthly subscription to it.

Dating Angeal

• Takes relationships seriously, okay? The man dates for marriage and a life partner, not for a casual fling. And he believes in building a foundation of trust, respect, and understanding before pursuing anything romantic.

• Very traditional in his approach to courting and is a complete gentleman. Will absolutely ask for permission to court his partner properly and plans thoughtful, wholesome dates like picnics, hiking, or cooking together.

• Shows his love through acts of service and protection. Will make sure his partner is well-fed, safe, and cared for. Grows herbs and vegetables specifically for cooking their favorite meals and/or making healthy versions of their favorite junk food. Food is his love language, and there's nothing that makes him happier than cooking for his partner.

• Tender and gentle in private, to an extreme degree. Babies the hell out of his partner and loves quiet moments where he can hold them, talk to them, and care for them.

• Gets adorably flustered by open displays of affection but secretly loves when his partner is demonstrative with their love. Will turn bright red if they so much as hold his hand in public. Yet he casually wraps his arms around their waist when they're out to send a message to the world lol.

• Very protective but not possessive. He trusts his partner completely and respects their independence. His protectiveness comes from a place of genuine care rather than jealousy. But that's not to say Angeal won't break someone's teeth in for trying to get with his partner.

• He's the voice of reason during arguments who tries to resolve things calmly through communication.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #angeal hewley #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #sephiroth x reader #angeal hewley x reader

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pastryfication · 5 months ago

Text

how can it be christmas?

pairing: lando norris x ex!reader

part three of my advent celebration

the christmas market was alive, the kind of place where people came to forget their troubles. families bustled between stalls, children clutched sweets in mittened hands, and couples huddled close against the cold, their laughter mixing with the carols drifting through the air.

but for lando norris, it was a graveyard of memories.

his sister had insisted he come. “you need to get out,” she’d said, her voice gentle but firm. and so he’d let her drag him here, to this swirl of lights and music and joy that felt entirely foreign to him.

he walked a few steps behind his family, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his head low against the cold. he wasn’t sure why he’d let her convince him. christmas wasn’t the same anymore. not since he’d lost you.

the memory of last christmas was a ghost that lingered everywhere. the way you’d begged him to take the weekend off so you could visit a market just like this one, teasing him about how grumpy he’d been about the cold. the way your eyes lit up when you found that snowflake ornament—the one he’d insisted wasn’t worth the price, only to buy it behind your back and surprise you later.

that snowflake now hung on his tree at home. the only ornament he’d put up this year.

he hadn’t expected the memories to hit him this hard. every laugh, every couple holding hands, every damn strand of lights reminded him of you. and the worst part was knowing that he was the one who ruined it. he’d made the decision to let you go, convinced it was for your sake. that you deserved better than a boyfriend who was always gone, always distracted, always in a different time zone.

but the truth was that he’d been a coward.

he hadn’t wanted to admit how much you loved him, how willing you were to fight for a relationship he hadn’t been brave enough to believe in. and so he’d walked away. left you standing in the doorway of his flat, your voice breaking as you’d asked him why he was doing this.

he could still see your face. still hear the way you’d said, “i would’ve waited, lando. i would’ve tried.”

he shook the memory off, forcing himself to focus on the present. he trailed his sister and her kids as they stopped at a stall selling roasted chestnuts, his mind a million miles away.

then he heard it—a laugh.

it wasn’t loud or particularly distinct, but something about it cut through the noise of the market like a knife. his heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he turned toward the sound.

and there you were.

at first, he thought he was imagining it. he hadn’t seen you in months, hadn’t let himself even check your social media because the pain of seeing you move on felt unbearable. but now, here you were, standing just a few meters away.

you were bundled up against the cold, a scarf wrapped high around your neck, your cheeks pink from the chill. for a moment, everything else faded away, and all he could do was stare.

you turned slightly, laughing again at something someone said, and that’s when he saw him.

the man standing beside you.

he was tall, with an easy smile and an arm draped casually over your shoulders. he leaned close to you, his face tilted toward yours, and you responded by leaning into him, your smile soft and effortless.

lando’s stomach twisted violently.

he couldn’t move. couldn’t breathe. he’d thought about this moment so many times, imagined what it might feel like to see you with someone else. but nothing had prepared him for the reality of it.

you looked happy.

more than happy. you looked alive in a way he hadn’t seen in so long, and the sight of it broke something inside him.

he told himself he should look away, that he didn’t have the right to stand here and watch you like this. but he couldn’t. his feet were rooted to the cobblestones as he took in the way the man handed you a steaming cup of something, his hand brushing yours. you smiled up at him, your eyes bright, and lando felt his heart shatter all over again.

you’d moved on.

of course, you had. he was the one who left. the one who broke your heart and told you that it was for your own good. he’d told himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could have a life that didn’t revolve around his career, his absence, his shortcomings.

but it wasn’t for your good—it was for his. he hadn’t been strong enough to hold on to you, to let himself believe he deserved you. and now he was standing here, a hollow version of the man he used to be, watching someone else live the life he’d thrown away.

his throat burned as he forced himself to look away, his hands trembling in his pockets. he turned and walked aimlessly into the crowd, his mind racing, his chest tight.

how had he let it get to this point?

he passed a lamppost strung with lights and leaned against it, sucking in a shaky breath. the air was icy, biting against his skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache in his chest.

“lando?”

his sister’s voice cut through the haze, and he looked up to see her standing in front of him, her brow furrowed in concern. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, his voice rough. “i just needed some air.”

she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t push. instead, she glanced back toward the crowd. “we were about to grab hot chocolate. want to join us?”

he shook his head, barely able to meet her eyes. “no. i think i’m gonna head home.”

she hesitated, her hand brushing his arm. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll see you later.”

she didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and stepped away, leaving him alone.

lando stayed there for a long time, staring down at the cobblestones as the market buzzed around him, before he finally forced himself to move, his legs heavy, his heart heavier. he didn’t look back, didn’t risk another glimpse of you.

it didn’t matter. the image of you—your smile, your laugh, the way you leaned into the man beside you—was burned into his memory.

as he walked away, the snow falling softly around him, lando realized something he’d been too afraid to admit.

this was what he deserved.

and no matter how many christmases came and went, it would never feel like christmas again.

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stevieschrodinger · 5 months ago

Text

Part One ThirtyThree

Prompt from @bookworm0690 and @after-the-end-times

“Stevie love!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s snowing!”

The phone starts to ring as Steve heads to the window, so Steve diverts to answer it. “Steve! It’s snowing!”

“Hey Robs, and yeah, Eddie just told me.”

“Do you think it’ll be bad? The forecast says it’ll come down heavy. Do you think we will get a snow day tomorrow?”

“I think Keith would expect us to open even if we had to find a sled and a team of dogs to get us there.”

“Poop.”

“Yeap. But I’ll see how the roads are in the morning, if it’s bad then fuck it, I’m not risking the beemer. Who’s going to want to rent a movie anyway?”

“Okay, call me in the morning? Chrissy already said she’s not bothering to open the shop if it’s bad, who goes out in the snow to buy flowers?”

“I don’t know, the same people who go out in the snow to rent movies, probably. But, yeah, she’s probably right.”

“Okay, bye dingus, love you.”

“Love you too Robs.”

Eddie practically has his face smushed against the window, “cold water,” he informs Steve.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right,” Steve watches the snow start to gather in patches on the lawn with dawning apprehension that he can’t place. There’s no reason for it, really. They’re safe and warm inside, and Steve knows without looking that they have a good weeks worth of groceries in the house. The main roads will probably be plowed before lunch time tomorrow at the latest, so none of that is what's worrying him.

It really starts coming down, thick heavy flakes that start to blanket everything, and as the snow banks, Steve thinks more about last year. Was it around now that Eddie was getting sick? Steve can’t quite place the time line, but he remembers how cold he’d been, sitting outside next to the pool, his missing toes throb with phantom pain, and Steve shivers. Eddie was getting sicker as the snow fell, and Steve remembers holding him, bundled in a blanket at the back door, so he could see the snow, “I’m going to make us hot chocolate,” Steve says to distract himself.

“Whizzy cream?” Eddie asks absently.

“Sure baby.”

The next day, the world is clean and white and quiet. The gray sky is bright where the sun shines through the clouds, reflecting off the snow; it makes the whole world hard to look at.

“Stevie can we go out?”

“Out in the snow?”

“I want to walk on it.”

“Leave footprints everywhere?” Eddie nods enthusiastically. “We could make snow angels. And snow men.”

Eddie turns to look at Steve, “snow men? Snow angels?”

“Oh man, you’re gonna’ love this.”

Eddie’s frizzy curls are sticking out from under his woolen hat, and his jeans are tucked into a pair of Steve’s boots. He had managed all of thirty seconds outside before he wanted his sunglasses, so he’s wearing those too. Steve gets it, it is bright out here, what with all the white, and Eddie’s eyes are, even now, very sensitive to the light.

Eddie’s licking a snowball. Under normal circumstances, Steve might stop him, but the snow out here in the yard is fresh and clean, so Steve lets it go.

Steve flops onto his back, Eddie letting out a surprised laugh at the sight, and then he comes closer, watching as Steve moves his arms and legs, getting up again to reveal the shape he’s left behind, “see, snow angels.”

“Huh,” Eddie says, not seeming that impressed by it.

“We could build a snow man?”

“Which man is it?”

Steve snorts a laugh, “uhm...no. It can be anyone I guess, but usually it’s like a generic snow...person. We can give him a carrot for a nose and, like, maybe a scarf?”

Eddie frowns, “what, in case he gets cold?” he looks bemused by the idea.

“Come on, I’ll show you...and I really think we need to get around to watching some Christmas movies.”

The moment Eddie grasps the idea of what Steve’s showing him, he’s away. He digs up twigs and rocks and things from under the lighter snow banked between the trees, happily giving his creations arms and eyes and mouths and...eyebrows.

“No no,” he directs Steve, “that one is Lucas, so the Max one should be smaller.” Eddie rams in twigs for their arms, angling them so that ‘Lucas’ and ‘Max’ are holding hands.

Steve stands back, frowning, “so who is that one again?”

“Argyle, and that’s Hopper," Eddie replies, like it's obvious.

“Right, right. So we just have...Joyce left?”

“Yeah, we have to make Joyce the best one.”

Steve smiles to himself; he’s not entirely sure how good Eddie’s memory is when it comes to those first few days after he came out of the pool, freshly bald and newly legged, but Eddie definitely remembers the Christmas food. He also seems to remember how, in those first few months, Joyce was Steve’s go to for advice on Eddie care.

Not to mention how kind Joyce has always been; how she’s always gone out of her way to treat Eddie with the same kindness and inclusion as everyone else.

“You know what, you’re right, you build Joyce, I’ll be right back.”

Steve knocks the snow off his shoes at the back door, before heading upstairs to raid his parents wardrobes. He comes back with a small armful of stuff, and Eddie gleefully distributes clothing amongst his family of creations. Joyce ends up stylishly dressed in a cashmere shawl that Steve has no doubt is probably worth at least a months wages. He doesn’t give a shit though, and clearly neither do his parents; they haven’t been back at all this year.

Eddie stands back after, surveying his creations, “a little family,” he grins at Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve can’t help but agree, “now lets go in and warm up.”

“Yup,” Eddie grabs Steve’s face, smushing a chilly wet kiss to Steve’s nose on the way past.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie #creature eddie munson #creature #robin buckly #pre steddie

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happilyhertale · 4 months ago

Text

Stocking Surprise – Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You meet your boyfriend Daemon's family over Christmas. Everything goes well and even Daemon behaves perfectly – until you find out what he has in mind.

Pairing: Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Sex (p in v)

Author’s note:

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.5 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The sprawling Targaryen estate gleams under a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Strings of golden lights wind around the ancient trees, casting a warm glow that illuminated the path to the grand manor. Inside, the atmosphere is lively but cozy, filled with laughter, music, and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon.

Daemon is a vision tonight in a charcoal-gray cashmere sweater, his silvery-white hair perfectly tousled. You’d spent the evening meeting his extended family—most of whom exuded the same enigmatic charisma as Daemon, albeit in varying degrees. There is Rhaenyra, who commanded the room with her sharp wit, and Viserys, whose laughter can warm even the frostiest soul. The children are a chaotic joy, zipping through the halls with sugar-fueled energy.

Daemon had been charming all evening, but there was a spark of mischief in his violet eyes that had you on high alert. He’d been uncharacteristically well-behaved around the children, but you know better than to trust his sudden bout of restraint.

As the evening draws to a close, the family begins to retreat to their respective wings. The halls quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old house settling. You decide to slip away to your room for some much-needed solitude. That’s when you notice Daemon sneaking down the hall, a bundle tucked under his arm.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you follow him on tiptoes, careful not to make a sound. He stops in front of the grand fireplace in the main hall, where the stockings hang in neat rows. Each bears a name embroidered in elegant silver thread. Yours is the newest addition, it‘s dark red velvet standing out against the others.

Daemon crouches before your stocking, grinning like a cat with a canary in its claws. You stifle a laugh as he carefully slips a small, neatly wrapped package into the stocking. But it is what he adds next that makes your eyes widen.

A lacy, vibrant red pair of underwear with a tag that read remote-controlled dangles precariously from his fingers. Your jaw nearly hits the floor.

“Daemon!” you hiss, stepping into the glow of the fireplace.

He looks up, utterly unrepentant. “Caught me, did you?” His grin widens, and he hold the underwear aloft, letting it dangle teasingly.

“You’re insane!” you whisper, glancing around to make sure no one else was awake. “There are children here!”

Daemon chuckles, his voice low and rich. “And you think they’re sneaking into your stocking? Sweetheart, this is strictly for you.” He steps closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “And for me, naturally.”

Flustered, you try to snatch the offending garment from his hands, but he is quicker, holding it high above your head. “Daemon, I can’t—what if someone sees?”

“Then don’t leave it lying around.” He winks. “Problem solved.”

Despite your protests, you feel your cheeks heating as he hands you the small package and the underwear. “Here,” he says, his tone playful but firm. “Unwrap it in your room. I’ll be up shortly to… supervise.”

Your heart pounds as you scurry back to your room, clutching the items like contraband. Once inside, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. True to his word, Daemon appears minutes later, leaning casually against the doorframe, holding the tiny remote between his fingers.

“Go on, show me,” he says, his voice a low purr.

You hold up the underwear, glaring at him half-heartedly. “You’re impossible.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he quips. “Now, put them on.”

Your protest is meet with a raised brow, daring you to refuse. Eventually, you relent, stepping into the bathroom to change. When you emerge, his eyes rake over you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, holding up the remote. Before you can say anything, you feel a sudden, faint vibration. Your gasp makes him grin like the devil himself.

“Daemon!” you squeake, clutching at the waistband.

“Shhh,” he says, placing a finger to his lips. “Wouldn’t want to wake the children,” he murmurs teasingly.

The vibrations intensified briefly, and you grab onto the edge of the bed for balance. Daemon crosses the room leisurely, every movement deliberate. “You’re blushing,” he observes, clearly delighted.

“You’re an idiot,” you manage to say, though your voice was shaky.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “And you’re enjoying this more than you’d admit.”

You stare at him, caught somewhere between exasperation and anticipation.

“Daemon...“, you begin, but whimper as he turns up the vibration.

Daemon just grins, watching you,

“Oh, you're getting off without me? That's not fair...“ Daemon feigns poutiness.

“Shut up,” you gasp as you try to press your thighs together.

Your eyes close and you try to minimize the vibration by squeezing your thighs together.

Daemon's hand pushes you further onto the bed and you follow his movement, crawling up and positioning yourself on all fours for him. The vibration makes your abdomen tremble and you feel yourself soaking your panties more and more. You press your face lightly into the pillow and feel Daemon come onto the bed, pushing your legs slightly apart as he kneels between your legs.

Daemon slowly approaches you, enjoying the way your fingers dig into the sheet. When he is standing behind you, he puts his hand on your bottom, grasping lightly, while the vibration does not subside.

You let out a small moan as you feel his touch and Daemon's grin doesn't leave his face.

“See, you're enjoying this,” he murmurs and you whimper again.

“Shut up,” you gasp again, but press your ass harder against his hand.

He turns up the vibration and your constant whimpers echo louder through the room.

His fingers glide gently over the vibrating fabric, feeling how wet you already are.

“Oh Love... look at you, so wet... you want more, don't you? Do you want me to stretch that tight cunt?“ he murmurs and you whimper. But before you can answer, he slaps the flat of his hand on your ass.

You moan slightly, pushing your face further into the pillow.

“I knew it,” he mutters. For a brief moment, you hear nothing, until you hear his belt unfasten slowly. The sound alone makes you drip even more. Daemon sets the remote control aside as he pulls down his trousers. His length is already hard, twitching impatiently as his hand encircles it, gripping it lightly and sliding up and down.

He watches how your bottom is pushed up, how the fabric of your panties becomes more and more soaked. He growls slightly, pumping his hardness faster, before his other hand pushes your panties slightly to the side. His fingers glide through your slit, rubbing the wetness along your folds.

“Fuck...”, he just grunts and you can literally feel his cock twitching.

You push your bottom further towards him as he lets the tip of his cock slide through your folds. Occasional grunts and gasps leave his lips before he slowly penetrates you.

You squeeze your eyes shut. No matter how many times he has fucked your pussy raw, this feeling will never get dull. The way your walls stretch around his length. The way he slides deeper and deeper, making your pussy clench.

“Daemon,” you whimper into the pillow, and he grunts, grabs your hips and pushes all the way inside you.

Long strokes hitting so deep into you, making you see stars. Daemon is gripping your hips, fucking into your tight pussy. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, intensifying the vibration of your panties.

Your fingers dig into the sheets beneath you as Daemon pushes deeper inside you. You cry out into the pillow and Daemon growls. The panties are still vibrating, teasing your clit as Daemon thrusts into you faster.

His cock kisses your cervix, making your body tremble. His hands grasp your buttocks, pull them apart as he watches his cock slide into you, covered in your juices.

At that moment, Daemon feels his balls tighten as he nears his climax.

He grabs your hips tighter and angles them differently to thrust deeper into you. You cry out, feeling your walls clench around him. The pressure in your abdomen increases and you moan out. He groans behind you, thrusting harder as your noises grow more desperate.

And suddenly you come. You scream and Daemon grunts loudly. Your walls milk him, and pull him deeper inside, want his juice – and Daemon gives in.

He growls as his hips stutter. He thrusts deep inside you, his hot seed spills deeper into your clenching pussy with each thrust.

You whimper as he slows down, letting his orgasm subside. Slowly, he pulls his length out of you, breathing heavily. For a moment, he just kneels behind you, his hands on your hips.

His hand gently glides over your bottom before he reaches for the remote and turns off the vibration. Your eyes are closed, but you feel him fall down next to you on the mattress.

You turn your face to him, watching him as he tries to catch his breath with his eyes closed. You smile slightly before cuddling up to him a little and kissing his cheek.

“Thank you for the gift,” you whisper, making him chuckle before he pulls you close.

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innerfare · 7 months ago

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Luffy Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Luffy angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous, Wearing His Hat).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded:

Makes a light joke, inspects the wound himself even if there’s a doctor present, will help bandage you up if you need it. Pretends to be nonchalant about the entire thing, is panicking inside. Fully realizes the depths of his affection for you, is terrified to realize it’s love.

Brushing Your Teeth Together:

Turns it into a competition. “First one done wins!” “Luffy, no!” Also gets toothpaste absolutely everywhere. If he was in the habit of wearing shirts, all of his would have toothpaste (and food) stains on them.

Flowers:

Not one to buy you flowers. Instead, he picks them. Sometimes they’re weeds he thought looked pretty, other times, he presents you with a lush bundle of pink carnations you think he must have picked from a commercial flower field (this man has no concept of private property). He’s always very proud to present them because he worked hard to secure them; you'd better give him a kiss for his effort. Has, on occasion, accidentally brought you some that are poisonous. Also once brought you a bundle of radishes because he thought you would like the color. Receiving flowers from Luffy can be a bit like receiving a lizard from your pet cat.

Type of Date:

Everyone thinks he’d want to take you to dinner, probably to an all you can eat buffet, but this boy would actually drag you to an amusement/theme park. You’ll go on all the rides, riding the scariest ones multiple times over, and by the end of the day, you’ll have a stack of photos taken just before the roller coaster dropped. He’ll probably want to grab a bite to eat afterward, as if he didn’t already sample everything the amusement park had to offer; definitely something casual, like a burger or bbq joint.

You See His Cabin For The First Time:

He's literally so proud of just his hammock. Insists it can hold the both of you and could probably hold the entire crew if you tried, asks if you want to try, asks you if you’re sure when you say no. Definitely has a couple of dirty dishes that he’s forgotten about, as well as a few wrappers on the floor. Has some fishing poles, a net, quite a few different games, and a bookshelf that’s full of both comic books and snacks so that he doesn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen if he gets hungry in the middle of the night.

Fighting and Making Up:

You fight about his recklessness. You knew who he was when you fell in love with him and you don’t want to change him, but sometimes, it gets to be too much and you lose your cool. One perk of dating Luffy, though, is that he has very high emotional intelligence, so if it’s one of those fights where you just need your space, he’ll give it to you, waiting patiently for you to approach him to make amends (although it does weigh on him quite a bit when the two of you are at odds, like he’s waiting for the hammer to drop on your relationship; he has such an intense fear of you leaving him it’s unreal. He also struggles with the separation because he’s so clingy). He doesn’t really talk through the fight and do the whole apology thing, just pounces on you and kisses all over your face as soon as he can sense you’re good and ready to receive his affection again. If it was a really bad one, he might pick some flowers to give you.

Paradise 1:

Meandering through the woods in search of the tallest, most impressive tree, him giving you a boost up to the first branch to get you started before climbing up himself, staying behind you the entire time so he can catch you in case you fall. Finally piercing the canopy and poking your heads up above the forest, his hand on your leg to keep you steady, the two of you grinning as birds fly by, basking in the afternoon sun.

Paradise 2:

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again.

Nightmares:

He grins at the sight of you standing on a cliffside looking out over the water, tranquil in the peace of night. He hurries toward you and puts his hand on your shoulder to turn you around, ready to place a happy kiss on your lips, only to stop short at the sight of your face. You’re completely devoid of joy, the life and will to live sucked out of you by a force he can’t control. You’re a husk, and he’s powerless against it. He realizes the darkness isn’t from night, that there are no stars glimmering in the sky, that the world has had the goodness sucked out of it, yours along with it, leaving you empty. He wakes up with tears in his eyes and buries his face in his pillow to muffle his sob.

Wearing His Hat:

Luffy is very protective of his hat. It’s his most prized possession, given to him by his beloved father figure. He’d fight the bloodiest war in human history to get that hat back should someone steal it from him. It’s for that reason he’s shocked by his own reaction when you get a little tipsy one night and pluck it off his head, placing it atop yours.

“Call me Captain,” you tell the crew, going member by member and giving them orders, getting onto Zoro’s case for not saluting like Usopp and Chopper did.

He doesn’t feel the urge to snatch it back, doesn’t feel even a touch of anxiety that you could misplace or damage it. Rather, he feels a sense of pride- everyone knows him by his straw hat, so if you’re wearing it, everyone knows you’re his. And it’s in that moment he realizes that you’re his- not his belonging, but his person. You’re the one he wants to walk through this life beside, the person who chose to wear his hat.

I Love You:

He showed it first, asking you to join his crew, making sure you had a safe and healthy place to be yourself, fighting anyone who stands between you and your dreams, saving his funniest jokes until you're around to hear and giggle at them, even going so far as to share a little (really, only a little) bit of his meal with you, but you were the only who actually said it first. He gets severely injured after a nasty fight, and you stay by his side while he sleeps it off like he normally does, though it takes him longer than usual to wake up. When he does finally wake up looking for you and something to eat, you fling yourself on him and tell him how much you love him. You didn’t intend on confessing, but you were so worried about him and the words fell from your lips as soon as you knew he was okay. Your brows are still furrowed, and when Luffy asks why, you voice your insecurity that he doesn't feel the same way. Luffy just laughs at that and ruffles your hair. “Of course I do.” With that, he crawls out of bed in search of food. He quickly falls into the habit of telling you in the morning when you wake up, and it fills you with so much joy, it’s like he’s giving you a happy vitamin to start your day. And saying those words bring him so much joy that saying them is like he's taking a happy vitamin, too.

You’re Jealous:

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.”

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece angst #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #straw hat pirates #monkey d luffy

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h1biscusgal · 6 days ago

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asks in a bundle bc im tired- PART 1

so, good question, hypnagogic is BEFORE sleep, dreaming is DURING sleep, two very different things, dreaming is not tethered to the body, it's actually purely the mind NOT AWAKE, ONLY ENTERS A BRAIN STATE WHERE IT PRODUCES DREAMING, hypnagogic is ABOUT to lose it's awareness to the body (the process of entering the void if aware, and sleep if not aware), but dreaming is more like you move and such, yk? but the Hypnagogia is where you are laid down, won't move, seen flashing lights and imagery that is NOT identifiable. in the hypnagogia it's more like random shapes and imagery, yk?

NAH ML IT ISN'T, IT'S JUST A PIC I FOUND IN PINTEREST. T.T

ml don't ever LET one comment dictate ur life, assumptions create you, when i listen to subs and see ppl complaining they didn't get results, i go past it and act like it's does not concern me, and guess what? i still get results, it's not about "oh im scared it'll happen to me!"

nah ml, simply trust, and ofc i am not forcing anyone to listen to my sub! it was something i just made to help some of those with problems.

yes

OFCCCC, usually it's literally up to you, but i have some ideas here and each can choose, btw, the zones don't dictate your job at all ml.

here's a link of one of my fave old bloggers i adore them sm, here, credits all to her btw

i am so sorry but i did not understand A SHIT-, but i translated it for myself and let's see.

OK SO I TRANSLATED IT, FIRST, OFC MY LOVE U CAN BE MY ANON, AND YES OFC YOU CAN TELL ME UR EXPERIENCES, and yes ofc, it is supposed to feel like your body is separating, that's the whole point ml.

when u change ur grades? it is changed EVERYWHERE

like seriously ive manifested it, it's SO TRIPPY, like i felt i'd get 40 smth on 60 then i go back and see it's fucking 60/60 which is a 100 in my country :D

literally one thing.

identify with the reality that you got a high grade, THATS ALL, like BEEEEE the version that already had the grades, yk?

there is no "it doesn't manifest", literally none, if i managed to change my grades in a day then u DEF can.

simply identify you have it.

ITS OKAYYYY ML, so, to keep awake during an awake method (YOU CAN TRY SLEEP METHODDDDDSSS-)

leave my alter ego alone she likes to yell "use sleeping methods."

anyways! try coffee or an apple beforehand? someone said an energy drink, you could also try during naptimes? daytimes? when you just wake up? AND GOOD LUCK IM PROUD OF U

FUCK THE THOUGHT AND YEET IT OUT OF UR BRAIN, LITERALLY BULLY THAT NAGGING THOUGHT, LIKE SAY:

"NUH UH U DUMB BITCH GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND NUH UH AINT HAPPENING I ALREADY HAVE A 95"

so sorry i acted up- ANYWAYS IT EASY ML, BANISH it, like literally BANISH it, throw it out and burn it-

ok so, in short, having that thought? "so what, bye, off u go"

I SWEAR I MISSED YALL EVEN MORE UGH

FUCK YEAH, remember, you're not "creating", you're simply deciding to live in a version of you that already was friends with that group and these people existed in the first place ofc. MWAH

PLEASE IM ROLLING- NO ML ITS OKAY I UNDERSTAND U ML.

okay first.

if so then lock me up rn first person bc this means that i am seeing things and did not manifest my 100 percent grades, growing taller, healthier hair, my desired body, etc etc.

my love seriously NO- WHAT DO U MEAN NOTHING IS REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL, it is, when you manifest it, you seriously did it, you can't say "OH I HAVE THIS" and it doesn't show up, you change your version, not the "reality" like you be cooking up some shit.

it's not:

OH I WANNA HAVE A CAR, LETS CREATE A REALITY I HAD A CAR,

it goes like this:

OH I WANNA HAVE A CAR, LETS BE THE VERSION THAT I HAVE THE CAR.

(im not mad at u ofc that's me acting up)

seriously those who manifested rn are THRIVING without the need of therapy or whatnot, and let me tell you, the first thing that LOA and those shifting things taught us? is to love yourself.

YES OF COURSE??????? IT WON'T BE DIFFERENT WHEN YOU PUT IT, seriously nothing will go the other way when you don't want it to go different.

DARL U SOUND LIKE ME I ALSO HAVE THEM EXAMS AT 1ST JUNE.

so, let's see, scared?

talk with yourself, sit yourself down and literally talk to the air if you like why is it that you're scared, why? go to the root and eliminate it, gently remind urself.

"but i already know i can, so why? these people who panic don't know the law, but i do!"

see? be gentle, fear is not something to push, don't EVER push fear away, simply PRY it away.

"never properly tried for the void."

"i want my life now."

THEN USE IT AND ENTER???????????

guys please, i love you all so so much like even more than myself but PUH-LEASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSE.

my darling you said you know it's real so you don't doubt it.

you tried 10k aff challenges.

you did this you did that.

and you want your life.

see the problem? you don't say "i have my life."

you say "i WANT my life." want what? be the version that has your life, void or not, i swear it's a click of a finger.

NAH IT'S NOT A GROUP SHIFT DATE (YET) BUT GO AHEAD ML, IT'S CALLED SHIFTING DARLING, pick a method of shifting, and set the intention to shift there, if you have questions of shifting search it up!

OKAY SO.

ts stuff is actually so powerful y'all, but first nope, no "wrong" thing will happen bc the creator himself said he added safety affs, he just put the warning there not for doing something wrong, he meant dont purposely use it for something bad bc it is highly suggestable, but i can understand, and rest assured, it's not going to implant it in the mind, simply listen to it once, then play your sub overnight or once before bed, DW MY LOVE IT'S SAFE, I'VE TRIED IT,

BUTTTTTTTTTTTT, of course i understand if you still feel uncomfortable, i for once may not continue to use it, it is too powerful for me and i could not sleep at all, switch it out with a regular booster, if u want! or simply use isochronic tones beforehand.

I ADORE AND LOVE U MORE OMGWYUEKRMLWHIGFRTYHNJW MWAH MWAH MWAH

SIT DOWN, AND SEE THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM.

guys really, it's okay to feel like there's a block in your way, gently sit down and talk it out with yourself, you'll see what is in the way, and once you see it, simply work to take it off, done!

OH MY GOD MY MOOT? IWOIQDHEURGFVUEJQIWO YALL THAT'S MY BABY LOOK AT HER OMG WIOUEREJIWKOQPEHFGEI I WANNA GIGGLE.

I KNOW U CAN DO IT SO BAD OMG, MY ASK / INBOX IS OPEN FOR UR SUCCESS OMG.

STOP I'M GIGGLING TEE HEE QUWGYEWQJIIEHIRGWEIHJQ, MWAH MWAH MWAH EXACTLY LIKE SEEING PPL LIKE THIS GOING BACK TO THEIR ROOTS MAKES ME SO HAPYYYYYYYYYYYY

that's actually a good one! i promise to do it when i entered, thanks anon!

yessss, these are all possible according to UR BELIEFSSSSS, and my love i seriously understand you, don't worry ml i get u.

yup. back it up with belief.

OMG YEESSSS I CANNOT WAIT TO MEET EVERYONE THERE.

nah do whatever u want ml, mix both if u want!

im sorry waht.

OKAY SO I LAUGHED, HOPE U ENTER SOON DW, lets see, veg but wanna eat non veg...? i am so sorry i cannot say anything that maybe could offend a certain religion, i myself eat meat and i do not feel bad about it, but it is different for everyone of course! i cannot say about this, sorry.

YESSS PERFECTLY GOOD TOO.

last hope? darl nothing should be ur last "hope"

there is no "hope", only certainty, you ARE doing everything right, simply back it up with BELIEFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF in yourself, you are the method yourself.

okay so, this sounds like the hypnagogic/into void type of state, yknow? the whole symptoms you said is actually a sign it is ENTERING the void, not really FULLY in the void yet, in it you should only feel calmness, and pure peace, no heartbeat, not one feeling of "flying", you'll just feel formless.

wtf tumblr is not letting me post more pics, anyways here is the last remaining ppl:

"anon:

okay so please tell me if I might have shifted or if I'm just going crazy

so bathroom rods. random, I know. but we're getting a new house and we bought some for our bathrooms. however, my dad happened to buy some extras and neither he nor my mom could figure out why. then I told them that we'd discussed having extra rods outside the shower area to hang our dry clothes to change into. BOTH MY PARENTS DONT REMEMBER HAVING THAT CONVO. EVER. this is actually so insane to me like??"

that's shifting!

"anon:

genuine question how do I do an asleep method because I do NOT want to get up for school tomorrow I’d rather live in a castle"

THERE IS THOUSANDDDDDDDS, sleep and have pure belief, or by a subliminal, so any shifting sleep method, do sats, do hypnagogia, there's endless things.

oh my god that was a lot-

#manifesting #reality shifting #shiftblr #loa tumblr #loassumption #law of assumption #law of manifestation #loa blog #void state #coco's answers

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jjangwonie · 5 months ago

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DOUBLE LIFE

DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2.1k

THIRTY SIX - Hey

The door creaks open and Jake practically stumbles inside, shoulders hunched from the cold. You quickly step aside as he hastily walks around, before closing the door behind him.

"Jesus, it's freezing," he mutters, rubbing his arms before suddenly freezing in place. He turns around, facing you properly for the first time in what feels like forever.

"Hey," he says, voice softer now.

"Hi," you reply with a small, uncertain smile, one hand rubbing your arm nervously. You're drowning in fluffy pajamas, your hair falling messily around your face, and even with slightly flushed cheeks from the fever, you're...

Jake has to remind himself to breathe.

"Oh, um," you gesture to the bouquet he's still clutching, "the flowers..."

"Right! The flowers. I, uh..." He looks down at the colourful bundle like he's forgotten he's holding them. "I got them because... well, remember when we were talking about favourite flowers? When you said- I mean, when everythingblue said- or, no, when you said..."

He takes a breath, starting over.

He's rambling now, words tumbling out faster than he can control them. "I didn't actually know which one was really your favourite. You gave such different answers, so... I just... got them all? Which probably looks ridiculous now that I think about it, but the florist was really nice about it, even though it was almost closing time, and-"

He stops abruptly, realizing he's been talking non-stop. A faint blush creeps up his neck.

"I just... wanted to get them right this time." He sighs out while his eyes flicker between you and anywhere else.

"It probably looks like a mess," Jake continues, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "The florist tried to make it look nice but I kept adding more and-"

You can't help but smile as you watch him ramble. It's endearing, really. The way his hands move slightly while holding the bouquet, how his ears are turning pink (and not just from the cold), how he keeps glancing between you and the flowers like he's not sure where to look. This is a side of Jake you've never seen before. Nervous, a little unsteady, words tumbling out unfiltered.

This is the same boy who could expertly control a football, who always seemed so composed in school, now standing in your hallway just before midnight, clutching a mismatched bouquet and rambling about flower arrangements of all things.

"Jake," you cut in softly, and he stops mid-sentence, looking at you with those wide eyes. "I like them. Really. The fact that you remembered all of those random flowers I mentioned months ago..." You trail off, feeling your own cheeks warm slightly. "Thank you."

He lets out a small breath, shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Oh," he says, and there's that tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Good. That's... good."

The silence that follows feels heavy, and you find yourself fidgeting with your sleeve. "You must be freezing," you blurt out. "Do you want a blanket? Or I could make some tea? I always have some ready and-"

"Actually," Jake interrupts, his expression shifting to something more determined (though the effect is somewhat ruined by his pink-tipped nose from the cold).

"You're the one who needs to be taking care of yourself. Sunghoon told me you haven't been eating properly, and YOU should be resting, wrapped up in blankets, not walking around in the rain, and definitely not eating ice cream at midnight-"

His hands are moving everywhere as he talks, the bouquet swinging dangerously through the air with each gesture. You watch the flowers wobble precariously as he continues,

"-and what were you thinking sitting at a bus stop for an hour? You could have called- anyone would have picked you up, you know that right? And-"

You reach out instinctively, steadying his flower-wielding hand with your own. "Jake."

He freezes mid-gesture, words dying in his throat as his eyes flicker between your hand on his and your face. You can practically see his brain short-circuiting, mouth slightly open, caught mid-word.

"You're going to make the flowers fly away," you say softly.

"Oh," he breathes out, then swallows hard. "Right. Yes. The flowers. Flying. I mean- not flying. They shouldn't fly." He takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to collect his scattered thoughts.

"What I was trying to say is... I'm not exactly a chef or anything, but I make pretty decent ramen. Would you... would you eat something if I made it?"

You can't help but smile at his earnest expression, at how he's standing in your hallway offering to make you ramen, at how he's still letting you steady his hand.

"Okay," you sigh, fond exasperation colouring your voice.

"I'll just put these in water first, alright?"

The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft bubbling of water on the stove and the quiet snips of scissors as you trim the flower stems.

Jake busies himself with unpacking the ramen, three different flavours because he wasn't sure which one you'd prefer so he decided to just mix them, trying not to make it obvious how his eyes keep drifting to you.

But they do. They always have.

There's something about seeing you like this - hair slightly messy, drowning in oversized pajamas with little stars on them, careful fingers handling each flower like it's precious. It's so different from how he usually sees you around school, yet somehow exactly the same. The same gentle attention you give to everything, whether it's editing photos or arranging flowers or just... existing in this quiet midnight moment.

You're humming something under your breath, probably not even aware you're doing it, and Jake finds himself holding his own breath, afraid to disturb this moment.

You look so... at home. So real.

He watches as you gently touch a daisy petal, adjusting its position in the vase with such care that something in his chest aches. It hits him then, how much he's missed this, missed you, even the parts he didn't know existed until now.

The water starts boiling more vigorously behind him, snapping him back to reality.

Right. Ramen.

He's supposed to be making ramen, not standing here like an idiot, watching you arrange flowers with what he's sure is the most embarrassingly soft expression on his face.

But he can't help stealing one more glance, memorizing how you look in this moment, slightly fever-flushed but smiling, surrounded by the flowers he brought, looking so perfectly, wonderfully real.

"How's it going?" you ask, turning away from the now-arranged flowers.

"Almost ready," Jake responds, quickly pretending he wasn't just staring. "Just waiting for the noodles to cook properly."

You hum, moving towards the fridge. "Want me to add some eggs? Make it a proper meal?" You're already pulling them out before he can answer, and he watches as you move around your kitchen with familiar ease, grabbing a smaller pan and some vegetables.

Jake tries to focus on stirring the ramen, he really does, but his eyes keep wandering back to you.

Your hair keeps falling in your face, and each time you brush it back with the back of your wrist, careful not to touch it with your cooking hands...

"The water's boiling over," you say without looking up.

"What? Oh- shit-" Jake quickly turns down the heat, feeling his ears burn as he realizes he's been caught not paying attention.

But when he glances back at you, there's a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you continue chopping, and somehow that makes his embarrassment worth it.

He should probably say something, make conversation, but there's something so peaceful about this moment.

The tips of his ears are still pink, but he can't help stealing another glance. Just one more.

You carefully balance your bowl as you lead the way upstairs, Jake following a few steps behind. When you push open your bedroom door, he pauses in the doorway, taking everything in.

"This is..." he trails off, eyes wandering from the fairy lights strung across your wall to the polaroids scattered on your corkboard. "Okay, it's weird seeing your room in real life. I mean, I've seen parts of it in your photos, but-"

"Jake," you interrupt, settling cross-legged on your bed with your bowl, "if you say it like that, it sounds like you've been stalking me."

"What- no! I meant- I just-" he sputters, then catches your teasing smile. "Oh, you're making fun of me."

"Maybe a little," you admit, patting the space next to you.

He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down, trying not to spill his ramen. The silence that falls feels thick with everything unsaid, the only sound being the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. Jake's hyper-aware of every movement. How close you're sitting, how your shoulder almost brushes his when you reach for a tissue, how your room smells like vanilla and something floral and you.

"This is pretty good," you say softly, breaking through his thoughts.

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly.

"Yeah?" he asks, and he's not just asking about the ramen.

You nod, giving him another small smile, and something in his chest unclenches just a bit more.

With the empty bowls set aside on your nightstand, the silence creeps back in. You're suddenly very aware of everything.

"Oh, right," Jake says suddenly, reaching for his bag. "I brought some... stuff." He starts pulling things out, setting them on your bed with careful enthusiasm.

"Some chocolate - which I know probably isn't great when you're sick, but Sunghoon mentioned you've been eating ice cream anyway, so I figured... And medicine, because fever, obviously. And this-"

He pulls out a small box with a Lego flower set logo. "I saw this and thought... since you like flowers..."

The keychain on his bag catches your eye as he moves - a small plushie, gently swaying with his movements. It's identical to the one sitting behind you besides your pillow. Your throat feels tight suddenly.

"Jake," you say softly, reaching out to still his hands that are still pulling things from his bag, seemingly endless. He freezes at the contact, and when he looks up, your eyes meet.

The fairy lights reflect in his dark eyes, creating tiny constellations, and you're close enough to see the slight flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks.

There's that familiar awkward tension again, but it's different now. Softer somehow, more delicate. Like you're both holding your breath, waiting for something neither of you can name.

A strand of hair falls in your face, and Jake's fingers twitch like he wants to brush it away, but he doesn't.

Instead, he just looks at you, really looks at you, in a way that makes your heart stumble over itself.

You're both so quiet you can hear the gentle hum of your heater, the distant sound of cars outside, the slight rustle of the bag's zipper as it finally settles.

It's strange, you think, how someone can feel like both a stranger and the most familiar person in the world all at once.

Your hand is still on his, and Jake swears his heart actually stops for a second when you say his name like that, so soft and careful, like it's something precious.

He's spent so long being angry, being hurt, but right now, with you looking at him in the gentle glow of your fairy lights, hair messy and cheeks still slightly flushed from fever...

"You're really pretty," he murmurs before he can stop himself.

You let out a surprised laugh, pulling your hand back to cover a small cough. "I am literally coughing up a storm," you say, looking down at your attire. "I look a mess."

"No, you don't," Jake says, too quickly, too honestly. The words hang in the air between you.

His eyes can't seem to stay still - taking in how your hair falls around your face, flickering to the way your lips part slightly in surprise at his bluntness. You look soft and close enough that he can see your soft breaths, and his heart is doing something dangerous in his chest.

Then you cough again, small but enough to remind him that you're sick, that this probably isn't the time for... whatever his heart is trying to do right now.

Jake clears his throat, reaching for the Lego box perhaps a bit too quickly.

"Want to make this together?" he asks, voice slightly rougher than usual. It's an escape route, a way to ease the tension that's been building, to quiet the loud beating of his heart that he's sure you must be able to hear.

But when you smile and nod, scooting closer to look at the box, he thinks maybe his heart isn't going to quiet down anytime soon.

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TAGLIST:

@jvngyoi @heexissa @i03jae @leaderwons @unhakki

@dreamiestay @poohoon @j33mn @nshmrarki

@ckline35 @payformycoffeeandleave @miszes @onlyhyunjin

@iatemycatfreckles @tannyr98 @conwunder @cheridiaries

@simsungsims @heelovesmeknot @wayzatiny @sanasour @violets-for-yj

@maloilover @riksaes @heeseungspookie @alex-is-sleeping

@helenngxz @shuichi-sama @noname-123s-things @mochiwonz

@atinyrosedoor @bee-the-loser @rairaiblog @sumzysworld

@who-tf-soddhi @heartheejake @ddeonuu4me @bananna-12 @haestuffs

@diestheticu @lionzyon @tw-hyuck @bmo-bri @zyvlxqht

@luvvvash @lisaswifey @xiaoquanquans @steddie-steddie @tinyteezer

@blvengene @tkooooop @mewyega

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #sim jaeyun #sim jake #enhypen smau #smau #jjangwonie #jjangwonie double life #enhypen angst #jake angst

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lostinlovingrevery · 2 months ago

Note

Hiiii! I'm sorry to hear about your PMS :( If it's not too much trouble I had this idea:

Logan finds a lost dog/cat that won't leave him alone, finally Logan gives in and feeds them/takes them in. Reader (the owner of said pet) is desperate looking for them, maybe yelling their name in the street, or putting posters everywhere, and when Logan finds out and heads to return the pet they meet and it's love at first sight :3

OR!

Logan and reader are already together and their pet gets lost. Reader is heartbroken and Logan comforts them, and then drive around all night, using his sense of smell to track the pet down and bring it home

(I recently got a puppy and she's already my whole word, I'm in love! So now everything I see/think about is puppy related)

HIIII, and thank you <3, it really do suck! To top it off, I have PCOS, so my hormones would go from nearly non existent to sky-high. it can be rough, but that's another story I'll tell one day (I may even make a fic about it!)

Congrats on your new puppy!!! What breed? and her name??? I have my Zuzu and we got her as a puppy 2- almost 3 years ago and she's my baby girl so I completely get it!!

This was picky in which option to choose, because they're both SO cute. I went with option 1 for now so I love me a good meetcute, but I may write option 2 one day :) apparently Im on a worst Logan roll rn but that's okay bc he needs the love <3 I named the dog after my cat in this too lol

Missing

Worst! Wolverine X Reader

A handsome stranger brings back your beloved friend

Warnings: Missing pet, distraught reader, love at first sight type of meetings, fluff, your dog is your wingman <3

"C'mon bub, go back home."

Logan glanced down at the small creature that has been following him for almost block. He had reached the apartment building, about to walk inside- but the cute little 4 legged furry friend stood at his side and waited for him to open the door.

He was not going to allow the cuteness of the dog break him. The pup looked up at him with a small pant, and big eyes, with a little wag of it's tail.

Logan stared down at it, and it let out a little whimper. He sighs,

"Fine. Just for the night." He mumbles, pulling the door open and allowing the dog to trot inside, where they look back at him expectantly and waited.

Althea and Wade weren't home fortunately, as he didn't feel like listening to either of them. Mary Puppins doesn't seem to be aware of what was happening 99.8% of the time, so there was no issue there either.

He gave the pup a dog treat, and offered some of Mary Puppins kibble and water, before trying to figure out where- or who, the animal belonged too. Discovering they knew tricks, had a very clean coat, and trimmed nails. Very well taken care of.

"You obviously belong to somebody don't ya?" He hums, scratching their chest. "Did ya sneak out, lil scamp?"

The wag of their tail told him everything.

"Mmph." He chuckled, now fully petting with both hands. "You are cute...Lets go see if we can find your folks."

Grabbing Mary Puppins leash and leashing the dog, to ensure the puppy won't run away and put itself into danger, they both left the apartment and began walking the streets as he searched for signs of a distressed owner, also watching the dogs body language for signs of familiarity.

"Poppy!"

Both Logan and the dogs ears lifted their head at the sound of your voice. He looked around, spotting you across the street- your face in distress as you held a bundle of papers to your chest. You were stopping random people on the street, showing them the paper and asking if they seen a loose dog.

Damn, aren't you pretty?

Logan looked down at the escapee, who was now patting their feet excitedly on the concrete as it watched you, looking up at him.

"That your owner Lassie?" He quirked a brow. He assumed yes, from the way it's tail wagged happily, as he moved to cross the street to meet with you. "Miss?" He calls out, and you turned around at the sound of his voice.

If you were a cartoon character, your jaw would've dropped to the floor at the sight of this handsome specimen who had your precious Poppy in hand. You did however, drop the nearly hundred copies of missing dog posters you made once Poppy had decided to break free from her leash this morning, and you couldn't catch or find her anywhere.

"Poppy!" You beamed, kneeling down with open arms as she breaks free from the stranger and ran up to you. You shed a few tears, that she quickly licked up as you hugged her, pressing kisses all over her sweet face. "Don't do that again! You hear me?!"

You looked up at the stranger, who had a faint smile. Grabbing a hold of the leash that was around Poppy to ensure she didn't escape again, you stood up, "Hi." You say.

"Hey." He nods.

"Thank you- For finding her!"

"More like she found me." He let out a soft chuckle. "Followed me from my workplace for almost a block."

You looked at Poppy, raising a brow at her, and secretly wondering if it was some sort of coincidence that she has now met you up with this strangers who's hazel-colored eyes are making you weak in the knees every time you look into them.

You smiled, "She took off from me at the park. Chasing a squirrel or something I don't even know. I couldn't find her anywhere, I was so worried. Thank you, thank you!" You reached out, placing a hand on his chest, attempting to be genuine as possible.

"It's nothing, sweetheart." He smiles. It sent a heat blooming in your cheeks at the use of a pet name and you ducked your head to hide your goofy smile, and removed your hand from him.

"Still I'd like to...Show my appreciation." You say, "Could I buy you some dinner? After I drop Poppy off at home first of course..."

He looked like a deer in headlights when you made the offer, which you regretted, until he smiled, a small sparkle in his eyes you didn't miss.

"Sure." He says. "Sounds nice."

You beamed at him, relief- and excitement filling you as you both began to walk together. It occurred to you that you just asked his guy out and didn't even know his name yet. Still, there was a strange familiarity between you both, like you've always known each other. "So what's your name?"

"Its Logan. Yours?"

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #logan howlett fic #van blurbs

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snail-day · 3 months ago

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hi snail!!!

i wanted to ask how would saturu and suguru react if the reader had horrible fear of pregnacy? especially the first one?

i mean... freaking out when she founds out, crying and pleading not to make her give a birth... and during the birth giving how would they feel to see her in such pain? wouldn't it make them feel bad to hear her screams, to hear how she calls to her mom or something like that??

or the second pregnacy😭 literally even worse when you know what you are gonna go through... how would they comfort her (or more like try to lol)

Hi cutie!!

I’m assuming this is for "This is Love, Right?", but it can just be taken as general headcanons.

Oops didn't mean to ramble this much.

TW: Forced Pregnancy, Manipulation, Lack of Voice, Yandere Behaviors, Excessive Coddling

First Pregnancy:

When Reader finds out she’s pregnant and is clearly overwhelmed with fear—crying, pleading not to go through with it—both Satoru and Suguru are initially caught off guard. They expected a little bit of complaining but not a full-on meltdown. So, they shift into overly coddling behaviors. <3 Fun, right?

Satoru would be all about physical comfort, perhaps even teasing. He’d pull you into his arms, holding you tightly, stroking your hair while offering teasing reassurances. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. You think the strongest is going to let anything happen to you, hm?” He’d definitely try to downplay your panic/fear with lines like, “Come on, it’s not that bad! You’ll look so cute waddling around!”

While he may be teasing, he’s also reminding you that this will happen regardless of whether you want it to or not. If you start crying harder, he’d get a bit more affectionate—holding you closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck, and whispering things like, “Aww, don’t be a crybaby. You know I only like seeing that in bed. You’ll see—it’s not as scary as you think. Suguru and I will be there the whole time.”

Suguru, on the other hand, takes a more nurturing, manipulative approach. If the maids so much as whisper horror stories about pregnancy, he’s giving them the side-eye and, if you start hyper-fixating on it, they might disappear entirely (and he’d just tell Satoru they intended to harm you).

He’d be so, so doting—sickeningly sweet. Sitting beside you, cupping your face as he wipes away those big tears, whispering the softest words: “I know you’re scared, love. But this is a good thing—a beautiful thing. It’s what families are meant to do.” He’d speak in such a low, soothing tone, lulling you into his arms where you can bundle up beside him—right where you belong.

However, he’d gently guilt you, murmuring, “You don’t trust us to take care of you? We wouldn’t be the strongest if we couldn’t protect you. Don’t you know we’ll make sure everything is okay?” He’s reinforcing the idea that your safety and wellbeing are entirely reliant on him and Satoru. It’s all for your family, after all.

During the Pregnancy:

Satoru is more playful, teasing you constantly about your appearance or struggles. He’d laugh at you when you can’t reach your shoes and say things like, “Do you even need them? It’s not like you can leave the estate anyway.” He’d make silly comments like, “You’re glowing! Okay, maybe you’re just sweaty, but it’s cute on you,” or “You waddle too slow, baby. Guess I’ll have to carry you everywhere.”

He’s doing everything he can to distract you from your fear, though it often comes across as dismissive.

Suguru, however, is incredibly doting. He’s by your side at all times—even if it’s 2 a.m. and you need to pee, he’s carrying you. He insists on feeding you with a spoon and dismisses your cravings with comments like, “My love, that’s not good for you or the baby.” If you get upset, he finds your frustration adorable and pulls you into his lap, forcing you to eat the nutritious meal he prepared. He loves giving you massages and baths, taking daily walks with you while holding your hand tightly, whispering things like, “You’re so strong,” and “You don’t need to worry about anything—I’ll take care of it all.”

During Labor:

Satoru is torn between wanting to stay in the room and running away because seeing you in pain is not ideal for him. He desperately wishes he could take it all away but doesn’t know how. He’d hold your hand and tease in a panicked way, saying things like, “Don’t piss yourself, babe. It’s embarrassing!” He’s oddly sweet about it though, whispering, “I know it hurts, but I wouldn’t have ended up with someone who wasn’t strong.” He’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince you.

Suguru is composed—if you’ve been on your best behavior during the pregnancy. No escaping or self-harm? Then he ensures your labor is as painless as possible, probably opting for a C-section. But if you’ve been trouble? You’re giving birth the traditional way, how the elders want, and without an epidural. Best behave, okay? He holds your hand, presses sweet kisses to your forehead, and murmurs soothingly, “Breathe, my love. You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.” He does feel guilt seeing you in pain, though—it makes him think he really needs to tone down his breeding kink.

Second Pregnancy:

They’re a little more prepared for the second one until you’re in labor for 33 hours.

During the pregnancy, they tone down your worries, though they’re just as coddling as the first time.

During labor, however, Satoru is stressed. He’s ready to hollow purple Tokyo if a doctor doesn’t help you immediately. Suguru is micromanaging the nurses and refusing to leave your side. This is the time to bite, claw, or do whatever you want—they won’t stop you.

They will feel incredibly guilty afterward, becoming super overbearing. You won’t lift a finger for weeks, maybe even months.

For Fun: Reader is like dying...

Satoru panics openly, fear palpable. Seeing you pale, feverish, and struggling to stay conscious shatters his composure. He’s gripping your hand so tightly it hurts, tears streaming as he begs, “You’re not allowed to leave me. You hear me? You’re the one person who can’t leave me!”

Suguru remains eerily calm, but it’s suffocating. He pets your hair, presses soft kisses to your forehead, and murmurs, “You’re not leaving us. You don’t get to leave us.” But the tension in his voice betrays his fear. If you were to die, his calm facade would shatter entirely—he’d do anything to bring you back.

#Big anon ask #snail yapped a little too hard #yandere satosugu #“This is love” asks #CW: Pregnancy

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mattluvr · 7 months ago

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut chris sturniolo oneshot !

( soft!dom!chris, oral — f!receiving, teasing, praise, pet names )

chris loves your tattoos.

he may not have any of his own, the prospect of something so permanent hanging onto the end of a needle one that makes his skin crawl, but he whole heartedly believes that he’s not missing out.

your smattering of ink is enough for him. from the delicately drawn flowers on the backs of your arms, to the tiny heart resting on your hip bone, chris loves nothing more than running his fingers across your supple skin, fascinated by the lines that decorate you.

so often, when you push his head down to nestle between your thighs, need gnawing at your insides, chris likes to come back up for air every now and again to press a soft kiss to each individual tattoo.

which is what he’s doing right now; your legs are open before him, desire dripping onto the bedsheets beneath you, chris’ mouth peppering love everywhere but your heat. you can’t take the teasing; you’re desperate, shuffling your body closer to him, y’know, to give him a hint.

“gimme a sec.” he mumbles, fingers tracing the outline of the cat you got tattooed on your inner thigh long before you met him. he’s mesmerised by the intricacy of the drawing, but is also fully aware how much this is turning you on.

a few more minutes of foreplay can’t hurt.

but you’re so impatient, whining aloud and grinding your lower half into chris, who chuckles in response.

“jesus, baby, alright.”

and he repositions his head, sticking his tongue out and beginning the torturous process of eating you out. he’s made the decision to elongate the licks, suckling on your clit slowly, which is turning into a puddle. exactly like he wants.

you tangle your fingers in chris’ hair, arching your back. “fuck, go faster.”

he ignores you, pressing the dangerous kisses all around yet again and you groan, both from pleasure and annoyance. chris’ act is boring you already; you need to cum so badly.

“chris.” you moan, forcing his head back to your clit. “did you hear me? go faster.”

“nah. not with that attitude.” he lifts away and you scoff, grabbing him by his shirt collar, pulling him into you.

you push your lips to his in a messy kiss, and when you pull away your eyebrows are still furrowed. “i won’t let you pick out my next tattoo if you don’t eat me out.”

“fuck, okay.” chris has been looking forward to telling you to get ‘eat me’ tattooed on your lower back. he ultimately decides to give up his stubbornness; he wants nothing more than to see that tattoo reverberating when he hits it from behind.

so he crawls back between your legs and becomes instantly harsher with his ministrations. you smile, the warmth of his mouth against your pulsing clit a welcoming feeling, and then your head falls back, his tongue probing your folds an unfamiliar one.

“shit, that’s good.” you hum in approval, back arching as chris’ thumb replaces where his tongue had been, rubbing your bundle of nerves achingly slow. “oh, yeah that’s good. so fucking good, chris.”

“yeah? you like this?”

“mhm.” you whimper, hand flying back down to his hair, relishing in the way he responds to the strands being pulled, the low groans flying from his mouth like music to your ears.

“what about… this.”

and suddenly, chris has removed his boxers and is lining himself up with your entrance, fingers still pressed against your clit, and you gasp, pulling his hair with more force. “oh my fucking god.”

with each thrust, you swear chris brushes your cervix, the softness almost painful; you can already feel the pressure in your lower stomach, and you need to cum, but chris is still doing his teasing act, body hovering over yours, lips brushing across the smattering of stars you have tattooed along your collarbone.

he’s not gonna last long, you can already tell by the slight tremor in his legs, but you’re not too bothered on this occasion; you’re not far off either, the magic he’d worked with his tongue having made you sensitive.

“fuck, ma.” chris hisses when you clench around him. your head is spinning, and you can only begin to imagine how chris is feeling. “just like that, oh yeaaaah. i’m gonna cum.”

“m-me too.” you manage to muster, your bottom lip clamped between your teeth as your vision goes foggy. maybe soft and slow isn’t all that bad.

and, with one last push, one last reach for the coveted g spot, buried deep within you, chris is unravelling inside you, painting you white; you’re not long after him, twitching and moaning as you coat his dick with your juices.

you both sigh contentedly, and chris slips out of you, groaning as his member makes contact with the crisp air again, flopping down onto the bed beside you. when he turns to face you, his hand trails round to graze your lower back, smirking.

“i want you to get ‘eat me’ tattooed right here, baby.”

you chuckle, but shrug. a promise is a promise, no matter how incoherent your thoughts, so you hold out your hand and shake on it. “deal, sturniolo.”

maybe that’s why chris loves your tattoos; not because of the intricacies… because they make you look hot when he’s fucking you.

taglist. . .

( @mattslolita @aelinslegend @chrissturniolossidehoe @mattbrainrot @conspiracy-ash ) is open!

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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