#i’ve been crying about this for two minutes

[edges-of-night]

Hi! I hope you are doing well. If I could, I’d like to request how the fellowship reacts to you walking in on them either changing or in a compromising situation. Could go the other way around if you prefer; I’ve just don’t think I’ve seen anyone do this prompt with the reader walking in rather than them

No worries if you don’t want to do this prompt :)

Hi, I hope you’re well too! I didn’t go the entirely humorous route with this one, but I did choose to do it the way you described, with reader walking in on the Fellowship.

I hope you’ll enjoy your post! Take care ♡

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn has no problem with others seeing him naked. That said, he knows it’s not like that for everybody, and he does anticipate your embarrassment and profuse apologies once you accidentally walk in on him changing clothes. He’d gently and unexcitedly assure you everything was fine – and was perhaps a bit confused by himself. Is he blushing? Why is he so preoccupied by this? Maybe this is different when it’s with you…

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Many soldiers are used to seeing other people naked and being seen naked themselves, and Boromir is no exception. Still, he wouldn’t be entirely comfortable with you walking in on him changing. A nervous laugh would escape him, though he’d instinctively try to play his ‘prince charming’ routine. Probably even successfully! That said, he knows this could very well be a delicate matter to you – and your comfort is always Boromir’s top priority, so he’d handle the incident according to your wishes.

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo, as usual, is very unagitated about your accidental glance at him changing clothes. From behind the door, you hear him chuckle: “Don’t worry about it! I should’ve closed that door, it’s my fault entirely.” He would only make a few lewd jokes about the incident when drunk at the Green Dragon, but not anymore once you ask him to keep this between the two of you. It wouldn’t change your relationship in the slightest.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Walking in on Gandalf changing clothes would probably result in a blanket magically flying over your head or even your body losing control and turning around to walk the other way, like a puppet. You’d see nothing – in fact this would happen before you even knew what was going on.

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Being the proud Dwarf that he is, Gimli would probably act like the incident never happened and be surprisingly nonchalant about the matter. He has nothing to hide or be insecure of, especially not with you. And after all, it was an accident! However, he’d sometimes makes jokes along the lines of “you never walk in on me anymore, dearie” after some time had passed. He takes all of this is good humour.

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

I feel like out of the Fellowship, Legolas would be the “flirtiest” if you walked in on him changing his clothes. He is also exceptionally good at reading your mood: Are you embarrassed? “Be at ease, dear friend. There is no harm done, and so we won’t speak of it again.” Are you curious? Eyebrows raised, he’d subtly make sure to give you the best angles. Or are you perhaps being flirty as well? “It’s a good thing you’ve come! Look here – could you help me with this girth? It’s been driving me mad…”

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

In the heat of the moment, Merry would probably scream something at you, like “Some privacy, please!” A minute later and he already wants to disappear into the Earth, blaming himself – how could he lash out at you like that? He’d worry and quickly walk up to you to apologise. He would accept your apology too, though he would still blush and quietly ask you to knock next time. Also: He knows how the Shirefolk can behave sometimes and wants to shield you from gossip.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin let out a cry when you accidentally walked in on him changing clothes, making you turn on your heels – before remembering you’ve seen him naked plenty of times. There’s no big scandal, even though he acts like there was. Going forward, as a joke, he would play with his scarf and smirk at you like the dirtiest thing happened between the two of you. You try to keep it down, but eventually, Pip would go around telling people you keep walking in on him on purpose.

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam would be just as surprised and embarrassed as you are. He’d stumble over his words and his feet alike, trying to get distance between the two of you and cover his naked skin at the same time. Afterwards, you apologise to him profusely, but Sam knows very well you didn’t mean to intrude. “‘t was an accident. Nothin’ more and nothing less.” Still, he’d blush a little – and, just sometimes, wonder if you perhaps liked what you saw – after all, he’s too shy to ask ♡

[thecircularlibrary]

helooooo

i love your writing!!

can u pls do a lyrason as parents one shot?

tyyy

aw thank you <3 here you go!!!!

oh darling don't you ever grow up

Grayson x Lyra

warnings: n/a

words: 1135

border credit: @strangergraphics-archive

Gianna Annelise Hawthorne was the most beautiful thing Grayson had ever laid eyes on. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of holding his daughter for the first time. Lyra was looking up at him, and no matter how much other people might say she was a mess, to him, she was glowing. He looked into Gianna’s brown eyes and he saw nothing but her mother in them, in every single way that mattered. Her tiny hand grabbed his finger and he lifted it and kissed it, promising her that he’d be there. Promising her that he’d care, that she’d never have to feel what he and his brothers had felt.

Lyra’s mom told the nurse to open the door and let in Grayson’s family. The sudden cacophony of sounds that entered the serene room should’ve been something Grayson anticipated, but he didn’t. Gigi, Avery, and Savannah went to Lyra’s side as his brothers went to his. Nash was the first to hold her. Jameson was the first to cry.

✠⚞☀⚟✠

“Sweetheart, you can sit on the counter while I make breakfast, but if you do, it has to be over there,” Grayson pointed to the actual counter, not the island where Gia had been seated 3 minutes ago. He was making waffles; past-tense. Present-tense, Grayson was covered in flour. His five-year-old daughter was giggling as he picked her up and moved her. 

“Grayson, have you seen my—Oh!” Lyra covered her face in a laugh before walking over to Gia. 

“Gia…what did you do?” Lyra was giggling the exact same laugh as their daughter. Meanwhile, Grayson was still covered in flour. He looked at her, completely deadpan.

“Oh, is something funny?”

Lyra covered her face with her hand, but Grayson could still see a smile in her eyes.

“Nope. Nothing funny here. In fact, this is very serious and I think it calls for an emergency DoorDash order,” Lyra was fighting to keep a straight face in her jeans and graphic tee—the pro of working as a Google software engineer was that she could dress functionally without needing to dress seriously. Grayson had to remind himself to stop thinking about her clothes by looking at the half-mixed waffle batter (which they no longer had enough flour to finish) and then looking at his daughter.

“Yes it does. In fact, it sounds like an emergency IHOP order. For two,” Grayson raised his eyebrows at his wife who was still trying to keep a straight face. They both avoided looking at their daughter who had gasped at Grayson’s words.

“Daddy, I want waffles too,” she said quietly. She was a very soft-spoken child and she rarely yelled. The softness of the statement made his heart melt. Even though Lyra was usually the first to cave, Grayson lost this battle.

✠⚞☀⚟✠

“You aren’t wearing that.”

When Grayson was old enough to have kids, he had told himself that he would just let them make their own decisions about what they wore to school. Especially because he already knew he was going to put them in Heights Country Day as soon as they were old enough (the ninth grade). And he really wanted to stand by that decision.

Until his daughter tried to go to her first day of eighth grade in a mini skirt. A Lululemon mini skirt. 

“But Dad, I have tennis after school today and it’s literally a tennis skirt. It saves me so much time if I don’t have to change,” said Gia. She looked exasperated and tired of her father.

“You also have ballet after school some days but I don’t see you wearing a leotard and tights to school on those days, now do I?” This time, it was Lyra that had spoken. “I’ve had long conversations with you about what you can wear to school versus what you should wear to school and I want you to guess where this one falls.”

“Ugh.”

“Answer, Gianna Annelise.”

“Under what I can and not what I should…” Gianna sighed.

“Exactly,” Grayson said. Before he could continue, Lyra shot him a look.

“Please change, Gia,” Lyra pleaded.

“Okay Mom.” Gia walked back upstairs and to her room.

“Mom? I’m the one who told her to change?” Grayson stood confused by the stairs.

“Girls tend to listen to their moms, Gray. It’s nothing personal, I promise,” Lyra said as she patted his cheek and went outside to start the car. He shook his head and questioned how he got lucky enough to have a daughter that was exactly like his wife.

✠⚞☀⚟✠

“Dad! I’m gonna be late if we don’t hurry! I have to get to the tryout clinic early so I can learn the routine early so I can teach it so they can consider me for captain!” Gianna was standing by the door in cheer shorts and a shirt, ready for her junior year cheer tryouts. Grayson was still getting his shoes on.

“I’ll be right there, Gia, it’ll be alright. You’re the best one there so I’m sure they’ll pick you anyways.”

“Thank you, Dad, but that isn’t true. Besides, even if it was, that’s not enough. I need to show leadership and commitment. And I can’t do that if I’m late!” Gianna lost her soft-spoken nature when she got older.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready, let’s go,” Grayson grabbed his keys and went to leave.

“Wait, Dad!”

Grayson whipped around.

“Yes, Gia?”

Gianna grinned.

“Can I drive?”

✠⚞☀⚟✠

Years later, when Grayson was making a senior video for Gianna’s final cheer banquet, he remembered her tiny hands on the day she was born. He remembered her curly hair that bounced as he moved her from counter to counter when he tried to make breakfast in the morning. He remembered her personality growing more and more like her mothers as she grew up. He also remembered things like her joy the first time she did a tumbling pass. Her face when she was fitted for her first pair of pointe shoes. The grin she had when she won her first doubles match. 

He remembered Gianna’s first homecoming and how her cousin Hannah had insisted on Lyra and Avery making them mums. He remembered, specifically, Lyra’s struggle and the way it had been worth it when he and Jameson got to take pictures of their daughters next to each other at their last homecoming. This time, Grayson cried first. 

When she cheered her last football game. When she danced her last Nutcracker with her ballet company. When she played her last doubles match, and won. These memories and their subsequent tears tore through Grayson’s mind. All of Gianna’s lasts. All the things she wouldn’t experience again.

So when he finished the slideshow and needed to pick a song, he knew exactly which one to pick.

[littlespacereader]

hi id love love love if you could do wanda!caregiver and a reader whos about 9-11 years old. reader has been really stressed due to school and processing trauma, and after a week of not attending, wanda persuades them into being a kiddo with her all day to relieve some stress :3 i have no nicknames i hate, but an absolute FAV is "angel."

I’ve never written for Wanda before!! I was so excited for the opportunity! I really hope you love this story as much as I did writing it! Enjoy!!💞💞

A Little Love From Mama🥣

Caregiver! Wanda Maximoff & GN Little! Reader

Tags- hurt and comfort, hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses, cooking together, drawing, small cameo of Vision at the end

There’s been a pit in Wanda’s stomach for weeks now. Slowly but surely she could see the stress and trauma eating away at her little one.

In and out of the Avengers tower they would go, giving a small quiet goodbye to Wanda and the rest before attending school. Then dragging themselves back home to the tower looking even worse than before.

She knew school had been their biggest stressor. Between the other students, the workload, and the social aspect of it all, it was taking a toll on their mental health.

Wanda didn’t want to push them or make things worse, but her motherly caregiver instincts couldn’t help herself. She made them lunch, giving them a small kiss on the forehead beofre they left and gave them a warm hug when they returned.

But even these small gestures didn’t help the inevitable.

Eventually they started missing classes, then missing days at school. At first Wanda wasn’t too worried, maybe they needed a mental health day just like some take sick days.

But that day turned to days that turned to a week. She knew she had to step in, she couldn’t hold back another minute.

The Avengers went on a mission abroad, leaving her the perfect opportunity for her to take care of Y/N alone.

A small soft knock to their door, “Y/N? Can I come in?”

Silence, then “I…*sniffle*…I thought you were on the mission?”

“I decided I didn’t want to go. Can I come in Angel?”

Angel, a nickname reserved for Y/N when they’re regressed. It holds a special meaning between the two of them.

It already seems to have taken its effect onto Y/N as they softly yet with a broken sob say, “Yes Mama.”

Wanda immediately enters the room to find, Y/N sitting on their bed, knees up to their chest, crying.

“Awww Angel come here,” she takes a seat on the bed and opens her arms to Y/N who gladly reciprocates.

Wanda wraps them in a tight hug, one arm holding them close and tightly against her, the other rubbing their back. All while Y/N cries in their arms.

“I know sweetheart I know, it’s been a lot recently hasn’t it?” She asks getting a small nod.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing right now. It’s time for Mama to take care of her sweet little Angel. Okay? Does that sound good to you?”

Y/N break apart but only slightly to look into Wanda’s eyes. There she can see the change immediately, now she’s got a Little in her arms. They nod their head, looking so desperately in need of some love and affection.

“There’s my sweet Angel.” She smiles, leaning forwards to places a soft kiss to their head.

“Let’s get you changed into some clean comfy clothes and then we’ll see what we’re going to do for the rest of the evening okay?”

Another small nod but this time accompanied with a smile. It’s been a long time since Wanda’s seen them smile.

Without even moving, using her powers she opened their closet and grabbed their favorite pair of pajamas, bringing it over to the two of them. She then helped them change. While she knew their headspace was older, she figured the extra comfort would be welcomed.

And welcomed it was. She ended it by brushing their hair and placing another kiss to their forehead for good measure. “There we are. All fresh and comfy.” She smiled back to them.

She stood from the bed and took their hand in hers, “Now how shall we spending our evening together?” She asks as they walking from Y/N’s room into the tower.

“We could play legos, we could play make believe, we could watch a movie and snuggle up together.” Wanda began listing options to help her little one.

“C-Could we…” Y/N started to say.

“What is it Angel?” She stopped and turned to them, carding a hand through their hair.

“Could we cook together?” Y/N suggested shyly.

Wanda’s face brighten up with the suggestion. “Of course we can Angel. I’d love to.”

They walking into the small kitchen together. Y/N took a seat and the barstool as Wanda rounded the counter, standing across from them.

“Now what dish would you like to cook chef?” She winked.

Y/N smiled, “Can we cook one of your family recipes?”

“Of course we can.” With the flick of her wrist pots and pans started flying out from the cabinets. Then the ingredients started to fly from the fridge.

“We’re going to make a Sokovian dish called Chicken Paprikash. So first I’m going to need you to help Mama cut the vegetables.”

A small cutting board and a plastic knife floated over to where Y/N was sitting on the barstool. “Now, I want you to be extra careful with the knife okay? It’s not that sharp but it could hurt my little Angel.”

“I promise I’ll be careful.” Y/N said, so happy to be helping out.

A green bell paper floats over to Y/N, landing on their cutting board. “Could you cut that up for Mama? I’ll get started on the chicken while you do.”

Y/N eagerly nodded and began working on cutting their bell pepper up. They worked in comfortable silence. Wanda humming a small song while Y/N focused on their work.

“Mama?”

“Yes?” Wanda lifted her head.

“Where’s Papa tonight?” Y/N asked about Vision.

“Papa went on the mission tonight. But I’m sure he will be back later to see his little Angel again. And won’t he be so surprised to learn that you made dinner!”

Y/N gasp and looks back at Wanda beyond excited. “We gotta save him a bowl!!”

“We definitely will. We can’t leave Papa out.” She smiles. Even though Vision couldn’t taste anything nor did he eat, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

Y/N helps put all the cut vegetables into the soup. Wanda floats over the lid, covering the soup and letting it simmer and cook.

“Now we have to let it cook on its own for a while. But, in the meantime, maybe we could play together or draw?”

“Draw!! Let’s draw something!” Y/N jumped from their seat.

“Go ahead and get your markers while I clean up. I’ll meet you there Angel.” Wanda explained as more things started to float.

After a couple of minutes, Wanda join Y/N at the table, coloring a picture together. Wanda praised every picture, promising to put it on the fridge.

Both of their head lifted to the sound of the timer going off. “The soup!” Y/N smiled.

“It’s all ready,” Wanda smiled back, “Clean off the table while I grab us a bowl.”

Y/N nodded, starting to put their markers and papers away. After they were all cleaned up, Wanda had returned with two bowls.

Together they sat at the table enjoying the meal they made together. With the first spoon full Wanda gasp, “Y/N, I think this is the best chicken Paprikash I’ve ever had!”

Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Really?!”

“Definitely! I couldn’t have made it any better myself. You’re truly a talented cook! You truly are a Maximoff.” She smiles back, seeing the Little beaming under the praise.

They enjoyed their meal together, sitting right beside one another, talking and laughing together. The worries and stresses of school long forgotten.

~~~

Vision returned back to the tower late at night. Quietly arriving off the elevator at his shared floor with Wanda and Y/N. The light were off so he assumed they had gone to bed.

That was…until he saw the television still playing in the living room.

He made his way over, to find Wanda and Y/N sound asleep cuddled on the couch together. The tv plays Y/N’s favorite cartoon, and mixed with the low lighting must’ve lulled the two to sleep.

Vision smiled at the sight, happy that Wanda was able to help Y/N. He grabbed their bowls of snacks and their drinks, bringing it back to the kitchen to help clean up while they slept.

He walked over to the fridge, seeing the outside now decorated with new drawings. He opened the door and inside sat a bowl of soup with a note:

Dear Papa,

I made this bowl of soup with Mama today! I saved this bowl especially for you!

Made with love,

- Y/N xoxoxo

[willowcrowned]

puella magi madoka magica episode ten “もう誰にも頼らない” unanimously voted single most devastating twenty four minutes and twelve seconds in human history

[cognitiveleague]

Guess whose psychiatric meds NP cleared her to go back on her ADHD meds!!!!!

[seventh-district]

.

[bucksangel]

currently sitting on the bathroom floor at my job having a manic episode

[sapphicsnzs]

currently crying in the library while studying

[backhurtyy]

missed my endocrinology appointment that i scheduled six months ago. happy fucking diabetes awareness month.

[victory-cookies]

the only irl friend I have that I feel comfortable actually talking about the things I enjoy with just insulted me for gushing about smth to her over snap last night and now I want to cry

[parasolids]

i am having a genuine core memory type of bad day today like serious SERIOUS things are going down and i missed a flight because genuine life changing events are happening and got put on standby for another which got delayed multiple times til i would’ve missed my connecting flight home and anyways it was overbooked so i didn’t make it on, and then now five hours after they left me at the airport im finally heading home and i was like “well at least i can eat the fries i bought that i didn’t get to eat yesterday” but my useless cousin who has not only been completely useless through this weeks long ordeal but has also been making things worse stepped in and ate the whole giant box of fries cause he “thought we were leaving” even though my mom clearly left half her stuff behind at the house and told him we did not make our flight so she was going to stay in town and try and get me home and also this whole situation (except for the fries) is straight up my fault cause i didn’t wanna get out of bed for 20 minutes when we woke up and like normally this would be fine especially since i went to bed at 2 am packing suitcases and then had to wake up at 7 and also slept super poorly anyways but i still have no self discipline and everything has gone wrong because of that

[fingertipsmp3]

Genuinely not sure if I cry easily or if I just have a habit of dwelling on my problems and past grief that I should really be well into the fifth stage of by now but am instead stuck on stage 3 or 4

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[loveanddeepthroat]

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts. 

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—” 

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself. 

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. 

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence. 

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.” 

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?” 

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️

[callmemickey]

Simon Riley fucks intensely and passionately. He doesn’t grab your hair, or spit on your face, or cause you physical pain - my man’s has openly admitted to dealing with violent thoughts/dreams against women and wanting to be better. He might get rough if he’s stressed or angry, but he won’t be, like, throat fucking you for example. Sorry. I just can’t see it. He can be fast, but I don’t think he’s gonna be hardcore or degrading. I think if he gets the mask on, he miiiight be a little more… forthcoming.

Simon Riley finds sex to be the highest level of trust, love, and vulnerability. Don’t expect him to be a quick or easy lay. If he wants you intimately, this is the biggest honor you would ever receive from him. Maybe before he was tortured he would’ve been quicker to engage, but the Simon we know now? Yeah, you gotta work.

Simon Riley… ohhhhh he’s always asking you: “is that alright, love?” “that feel good?” “ahhhh, yeah, you’re a good girl, aren’tcha?” If you’re not feeling it, he’s not feeling it. he wants to make sure you’re into it 100%. the moment you grunt, wince, or groan in pain, he’s stopping to check up on his lovie. he just radiates Soft Dom energy to me (and I want him so bad). Simon loves to see you get all flustered, too. When you beg for him (and you’re a good girl) he will give you anything and everything you want.

Simon Riley being a Soft Dom… mmm, delicious. I love to imagine him praising and worshipping: “ahh fuck, i’ve missed my girl’s pussy” “so proud of you, taking my cock so well” “you want to be a good girl for me, don’tcha?” “you’re so beautiful when you struggle to fit me” if you’re engaged with him romantically, you’re his everything - man’s invested his entire soul and well-being into you. With that being said, throw him some praise, too! He’ll melt and become putty in your hands; he’ll do anything for you. Tell him how you were made for his cock, that nobody else makes you feel like he does, how you’re sooo good - but only for him. He’s definitely possessive of you - not in a red flag kind of way, but when you talk about how you’re his and only his… whew.

Simon Riley wants to see your face when you two are having sex. Anything missionary, missionary adjacent, cowgirl, it doesn’t matter, just let this man look at you! He doesn’t crave it, he needs it. Eye contact is so intimate, and if you’re shy and can’t maintain it? Ohhh, he’s gonna have fun. “eyes here, love” “don’t cover your face/close your eyes - i want to watch you cum” “you were just begging for my cock, don’t get all shy now” “be a good girl and look at me” he’s either coming inside or on your tummy/chest. preferably? inside.

Simon Riley prefers having a good session as opposed to a quickie. He likes doing things in the privacy of your shared home (because then you can be loud and cry his name as you cum on his cock for the 4th time 🤭). Sometimes, he’ll be desperate though, and this is when he gets a lil impatient. Like this one time, he went with you to your family’s Christmas party while being on leave for only a week, and he needed you. That man took you in the bathroom and railed you so hard you couldn’t leave for 15 minutes until you could stand without shaking (also not me writing this rn).

Simon Riley, upon specific request, will wear the mask in bed. Honestly, don’t expect this for a while, however. The mask serves as his identity - his separation from you. This will take a lot of courage on his behalf as you’re wanting to bring in something containing his countless sins and crimes into such an intimate situation. Like I said!!! It takes a while to get him this comfortable. Try to rush the process and you’re missing out on some pretty intense and animalistic fucking. It’s a rare time you can expect a more vicious kind of dirty talk from him: “fuckin’ hell, you like being a dirty little slut, huh?” “that pretty little face of yours deserves to be fucked” “your pussy was made for me” “shut up and keep taking it like a good girl should” “ahh, begging for my cock like the needy little slut you are”

Simon Riley loves aftercare, and he makes sure you feel loved during that time. Sweet Angel, we don’t deserve him. Massages, baths, checking on you emotionally and mentally, he’ll make you dinner, put on your favorite movie, and relax with you while he showers you with unconditional love and adoration. He’s obsessed with you. Get over it.

[dragonsholygrail]

It broke your heart to leash and put a muzzle on your Werewolf bf. But ultimately you really didn’t have any other option.

Not when he was growling and snarling at anyone who dare to look at you too long. Protecting his territory and constantly preparing to fight off any human who he thinks is planning to take you away from him.

Even now with a leash attached to his pretty collar and the muzzle fit snuggly on his face, he still pulls and tugs on the leash, growling lowly as other hybrids pass by on your daily walks around the park. But at least now you nor anyone else has to worry about things getting out of hand.

Or at least that’s what you think…

Your bf is silently stewing, practically seething at the fact that you’ve done this to him. His bad mood only increasing the amount of times he snarls at his competitors for your affection that pass you by.

His limitations only serve to remind him what you’ve done to him. And boy does it make him want revenge. To teach you who’s really the one in charge here as the desire to make you submit roars inside of him.

That feeling only grows as your walk continues and by the time the two of you have gotten back to your home, your bf is practically vibrating in his skin. The need to pounce on you and mount you pumps through his veins and electrifies the urge.

You gently take off the leash and the muzzle and he finally feels free. Your soft smile and sweet touch never leave his face as you hang them up. For a second his heart warms at your affection but the clank of metal rings in his ears and he’s reminded he’ll have to wear them again for your walk later.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask lightly, leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss before turning around and heading to your room.

Your bf’s eyes follow you closely like a predator hunting their prey. He smirks wickedly and lifts the leash off the hook before following you, tail wagging in excitement thinking about how he’s gonna demolish that sweet pussy of yours.

“You deserve a treat for being such a good boy. Can get you some from the kitchen in a minute,” you call out as you flick on the bedroom lights, preparing to change into your pajamas for the night.

At your comment he freezes outside your door, vision flashing till all he sees is red. That was the final straw and before he can stop himself, your bf is swiftly jumping out to pounce on you.

You yelp as his body barrels into yours, pinning you to the bed before you can even blink. He chuckles darkly, claws digging into the flesh of your wrists to keep you still for him.

“A snack?! No, babygirl, imma take the whole meal. I think I’ve earned it after what you put me through.”

Your eyes widen as you realize where this is coming from. Your body squirms but he pushes his hips against yours and you whine as his cock nudges against your wet folds. His dominating presence turning you on more than you can admit.

“I-it was just a precaution, please,” you beg, though you don’t know what you’re begging for.

But as he takes out the leash he was holding and starts tying it around your wrists, binding them to the bedpost, you know. You’re begging for more.

“Yeah, well I can’t have you squirmin’ ‘round on me. So this is just a precaution,” he mocks with a dangerous smile that has his fangs glittering in the sunlight.

With a harsh tug your bf exposes your messy folds. He runs his fingers down your soaked slit and you cry out, hips jerking up to meet his teasing touch.

“Ahhh, it seems like you’ve been lying to me. You like it when I’m like this. It gets you all hot and wet— fucking hell you’re dripping all over my hand, love.” A rumble moves through his chest as he sees just how desperate you are for him.

Not waiting a moment more he removes his pulsing cock from its sheath and slams himself inside you in the blink of an eye. You moan loudly, body bucking at the sudden intrusion. But the leash and his hands keep you tied down as he pounds his length deep inside your pussy.

Whimpers leave you as you’re left defenseless against his attack, his brutal pace jolting your body with each thrust with no way to add to the pleasure he forces onto you. No matter how much you try and squirm it’s no use. You can’t reach him.

“Oh fuck, please. Take the leash off. Let me touch you, please, let me touch you!”

You let out a strangled whine as he starts aiming for the soft spot along your walls. Your bf shushes you gently, a clawed hand moving to hold your neck in a firm grip.

“Sh, sh, sh. No talking. Wouldn’t want me to get the muzzle now,” he rasps as he quickens his pace, leaving you mewling as your back arches unnaturally.

He goes on for what feels like forever. Bringing you to climax over and over again. Only allowing short sounds of pleasure to leave your lips. His grip on your neck squeezing every time you talk until you cum on his cock and it all starts over.

By the time you’re done and he gently removes the leash from your wrists, your body is nothing but a limp bag of bones. Yet you still have the strength to immediately cling onto your bf, keeping him close as he whispers praises in your ear about how good you did for him and how he can’t wait for your next walk so you can do this again.