#no but I genuinely do love the work of it like the hands-on labor

[dragimal]

sometimes I forget that I actually have one of my dream jobs, the type of whimsical job that ppl write fluffy fanfic abt. I have to remind myself of this whenever I want to rip customers in half with my teeth

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

My girlfriend requested this

Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO

Lucifer

The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.

He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.

Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).

6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.

He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.

If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.

Vox

Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.

He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?

6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.

He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.

He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?

He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".

Valentino

Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.

He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.

By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.

No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.

If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???

Alastor

Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.

He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).

Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.

You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.

7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.

10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).

How does this affect how he treats you?

Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.

The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.

Angel Dust

Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.

He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.

He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.

He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".

He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)

Husk

I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.

He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.

Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.

He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.

When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.

BONUS:

ADAM

Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.

You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.

3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"

By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.

"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."

He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."

You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"

[hitomisuzuya]

husband scaramouche x fem!reader. head canons. fluff. soft!scara.

i really got the urge to write headcanons about husband scara, and how he would act with a pregnant wife. this is mainly cute headcanons. i may do the same thing with childe and aventurine.

when you announce to scaramouche that you are pregnant, he kneels in front of you and puts his hand on your stomach. "there is a cretin growing inside you?" despite his..unique choice of words, there is a hint of wonder and pride in his voice. once you scold him for said choice of words, and he tries again, he puts his ear to your stomach and says, "hello in there? are you a girl or a boy? whatever you are, i am waiting to welcome you into this world."

yeah, you definitely married him for a reason. looking down at him, your heart swells with so much love that you thought it might burst. this man, the feared balladeer, notorious for so many things is also your husband, the very same man hovering his hand so gently over your belly.

scaramouche would have this fierce need to be a good parent because he has already been the victim of having a shitty parent. there is no way he would do the same thing to his child.

that being said, he also takes being a husband very seriously. he even is a bit old fashioned about it. no wife of his would work if she didn't have to. of course, you could freely choose to work. he wouldn't stop you, but he certainly didn't have to like it. the way he sees it, his wife is strong, but if he can be strong for her, he can and he will. he is the protector. the provider and that was that.

his wife is the center of his world. he also married you for a reason. you don't let him get away with his shit. you argue with him, and back talk him without fear. you tell him what's what while still being patient with him. you have shown him qualities like being gentle and caring still exist. and he would burn all of teyvat and celestia itself if anything dared take you away from him.

whatever his wife wants, his wife gets, pretty much.

also, the kind of husband that says he doesn't want cats, but then you find him napping with said kitten sleeping curled up on his chest. you want cats and other pets, and he can't say no to you. but also know this, he genuinely enjoys having pets. you gotta know when to look at the right times to see them. moments like the one you took a picture of. they do happen. and often.

during your pregnancy, he is incredibly on top of things. he keeps all of your doctors appointments carefully noted. he makes them in advance on the exact day that they should be. if the doctor wanted to see you back in a week for some tests, the appointment was scheduled exactly one week later, at the same time as the previous appointment. he is incredibly particular.

really, the doctors and nurses have never seen anything like it before. this man would background check everyone if he could. twice.

literally fort knox level protection anytime you go out. there is not a chance anyone will come close to accidentally bumping into you. you had to have a talk with him about snapping at people he thought walked too close to you. twice. he struggles with improvement in this area to say the least.

if you have some crazy pregnancy cravings food in the middle of the night. it could be at 3am and he wouldn't care. he would be out the door getting it. in fact, man would start a war over it. "i don't care if that's what not you do. my wife is pregnant. i say you can do it, so you can do it."

when it's time for you to go on bed rest, he makes sure he is doing everything for you. if you needed anything, he got it for you.

when you found out you were pregnant, you also had this thought: 'god help the doctors and nurses working when i go into labor. i don't they will be prepared for scaramouche.' and you were right.

the nurses at your doctors office even put notes about him in your chart for the emergency room and hospital staff to look at in advance.

scaramouche makes sure everything is done straight to the letter. and that includes little things like your iv getting put in. he is even able to calculate the exact amount of time it takes for your iv drip bag to empty and is calling the nurse to change it. don't take this as being overbearing, he is just very nervous and scared. and this is how he deals with it. he wants to be able to help if the slightest thing goes wrong.

that just doesn't always show in the most polite ways to the staff sometimes.

the look on his face when he hears his child cry for the first time, and holds them for the first time is so soft. like he has seen one of the most beautiful things in this whole world besides his wife. it even makes the doctors and the nurses think that dealing with his colorful temperament was worth it just to see that look on his face.

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

Content: Attempted Gaslighting, Violence

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

--

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

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[nayaesworld]

Mafioso

Part 2

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Warnings: violence, past mentions of domestic situations, fluff

Terry X OC!Marina

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Terry had been experiencing true bliss the last month he had spent with Marina. She was intelligent beyond words and found ways to teach him something new everyday. Whether it was her place or his, they carved out time from their busy schedules to spend quality time to get to know one another. Friday had rolled around and Marina was currently napping on his plush couch snuggled up with a thick throw blanket.Hands together underneath her chin as she snored lightly. This had been their ritual. She’d end her work week and spend the weekend with Terry.

And they shared similar stories about how they had grown up. Her mother Zen was also a single mother who was in a large city all by herself and they both were an only child. She spoke of the day her mother had finally finished school and became a labor and delivery nurse, she wanted to welcome babies into the world for the rest of her career. Marina spoke of the day they celebrated and how much she looked up to her mother. And Terry loved his mother dearly as well, he had provided her with the luxury of never having to work again, a gift for her sacrifice as a mother. She knew what he did, what he had to do for them to survive and yet his most current life decision she did not agree with.

She’d heard Marina talking in the back of their phone call one day and was currently icing him out for it. Grace had called Terry everything but a child of god, and was hell bent on not letting him make this “mistake” again. He caught on eventually to what or rather who she was referring to… a past toxic relationship that had fizzled out almost three years ago now. Terry was whoring and running through Houston like an angry bull when he met Carmen. They argued, fucked, and fought on a repeat constantly, tearing through his house, her house, vehicles you name it they had an altercation there.But eventually like most relationships like theirs the shit got old fast and he was tired of his face looking like he had gotten into an altercation with a mountain lion.

But Carmen didn’t leave peacefully, no that wasn't her. She disrespected his mother and attempted to slander his name in the media. It was messy and the cleanup to attempt to scrub his name clean of her lies cost him a pretty penny. Last he had heard, she had successfully trapped some poor unfortunate soul…rather them than him.But Marina hadn't exhibited any of the signs that Carmen had early on in their relationship. She was about her money, had dreams and aspirations, and above all else she was genuinely happy about life. The only words that soothe this mother were future promises of actually getting to meet Marina, that would have to do for now.

__

Terry tossed his head back and squeezed a few drops of eye drops into his eyes. Sleep had evaded him again the night before and his eyes felt tired and dry. His body felt stiff and sore from jumping out of a moving car the day before. Some shit that had to be done. Another day of asserting dominance and knocking heads off, the usual. His hands gripped the bathroom vanity as he closed his eyes to allow the solution to soothe his eyes. He was zoned out and didn’t hear Marina walking toward him, her warm hand reaching out and lightly rubbing his forearm made him flinch and pop his eyes open quickly.

“Oh-oh Terry I’m sorry… were you crying?” Her eyebrows rose in worry and stepped into the bathroom with him.

“No sweetheart, it’s just eye drops… I swear. You nap like a house cat you know..I’m starting to think you only come over to use my couch.” Terry capped the eye solution and placed it in his medicine cabinet before resting a hand on her waist.

“If you did the same you wouldn’t need those drops boo, I take my beauty sleep seriously and you should start Mr.Night Owl and maybe you’ll get as pretty as me.” He placed a hand to his chest in feigned hurt and chuckled at her.

“Oh so I’m not pretty enough for you already?” The hand on her waist slid up to gently rub against her back.

“Mhmh you belong on the cover of vogue.. now shoo I have to empty my bladder.” She rushed a juicy kiss to his cheek before he left her to give some privacy padding across the house to his bedroom.

He let his tense body sink into the recliner in the corner of his room. Body relaxing and sinking further into the plush expensive chair, his eyes slowly rolling into his head.

“Terry…oh Smiley you actually are sleepy aren’t you…so I guess that means I can’t beg you to go to Target with me huh?” He listened to her walk closer to him until she stood next to him, eyes still closed.

He loved when she called him Smiley, the nickname she created because she said anytime he smiled or grinned even just a little all 32 of his teeth would show.

“I was gonna drag my mama with me, but she flaked on me to go wine tasting…Smiley I need to go pick up some makeup stuff for our date tomorrow, will you come with me?” She rubbed her hand over his head softly and he leaned further into her touch and rested his head against her belly.

He pulled her down into his lap and she sat sideways squealing at his quick reflexes. She had taken off her bonnet and her sleek silk pressed hair flowed past her shoulders sleek and shiny.

“Mm I love your hair Mari… so soft and long.” He ran his fingers through the course strands pleased by how the new style framed her face and made her even more irresistible. “So pretty…I’ll go with you just let me change ok?”

__

“Terry no..I am not driving this, are you crazy..What if I wreck it?” Terry was in a fit of tears. He was currently trying to convince Marina to drive his BMW X6 to Target and she was not having it.

“Then I’ll just buy another one…remember what I showed you last time? Just put your foot on the gas and press the drive button right here.” He went over it again with her before she finally felt comfortable enough to back out of his driveway and head towards Target.

They stopped at Wendy’s after Marina got a craving for it a few minutes into the drive and she eagerly ordered them both large combos.

“Man just eat the burger, one burger won’t undo your six pack Smiley I promise.”

“You just got me breaking all my rules. Got me eating red meat and sweets…eating in my car. How you gonna pay me back for all this lack of discipline?”

“Will a kiss cover me for my bamboozling activity?” Terry gripped her chin and pulled her face close to his just close enough for the tips of their noses to touch.

Her dark eyes filled with mischief locked onto his…so tantalizing and expressive, even for him. She had a way with her eyes, and he always felt so bright and important when she looked at him. “A kiss will do just fine, pretty girl.”

He allowed her to lead the kiss, her plump lips pecking gently around his mouth trying to tempt his mouth open. He inevitably gave in, too eager to stroke and roll his tongue over hers. Heads cocked to the side Terry thrusted his tongue into her mouth lost in the feel of her soft cheek and tongue. It was so hot and warm and everytime they kissed he imagined the same feeling on the tip of his dick, pure ecstasy.

A knock to the passenger side window ceased their lip locking session and Terry groaned loudly. The ceramic tint on his windows had him mean mugging the man outside of his car. Motherfucking Scotty, a well known addict in the area that couldn’t be trusted. He would run his mouth to anybody that offered him a fix and for that reason alone Terry didn’t deal with him like everyone else did, and yet here he was In Terry’s face too damn close to the one new thing he was hiding from that part of his life— Marina.

Terry pulled the gold rim glasses from his face before looking over at Marina. “You know him?”

“I’ve seen him around town a few times.. he’s a good man that was dealt some bad cards in life. I help him out whenever I see him.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp 50 dollar bill and rolled his window down with his back to Marina he was prepared to give a silent warning. He didn’t like being ambushed.

“Hey man you just love popping up on me huh..here’s a little something to send you on your way, stay out of trouble.” Terry sent the man a smile that didn’t meet his eyes before Scotty got the memo and thanked him before he headed back to sit in front of the restaurant. Nosey ass nigga.

“That was sweet Terry, you know your giving nature is one of my favorite things about you.” He met her gaze with a smile before bringing her hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it.

__

Target wasn’t as bad as Terry had anticipated, he had frequented the store maybe once or twice but now he was seeing the hype in it. Marina surprisingly only came for one little makeup product, something she apparently couldn’t live without a brow gel or whatever she had called it. He was enjoying her company nonetheless though, they had a date planned Saturday and he was more than looking forward to it.

“Can I get a hint on where we’re going at least.” She was at the island inside his kitchen, engorging herself on the creamy Alfredo and salmon he had made for them nimble fingers gripping the wine glass filled with moscato.

Terry wiped the white cheesy sauce from his mouth with a napkin before giving her his attention “I want you surprised sweetheart… so no hints unfortunately. Just wear that little red number you showed me today and you got it baby.”

“Aww you’re no fun Smiley… but at least your wine is good to make up for it.” She raised her glass towards his and the glasses clinked together.

“Mm you’ll love it, it’s right up your alley, now that’s all the info I can give you…you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow…how’s the new episode of your podcast coming along?”

“Ehh it’s going..I have two different subjects I wanna talk about but I’m having trouble narrowing it down. One is speaking to me more than the other one though.” Terry chewed and swallowed a piece of salmon repositioning himself on the stool.

“I’d go with the one you favor then…it’s likely that one is sticking to you more because you have great insight on it. Which you usually do on all your topics.” He grabbed their plates and dumped the remains into his trash can before loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “What’s the topic you're favoring?”

“It was more so a cocktail of things honestly, and it’ll probably be a really long episode. But it was drug abuse and the selling of drugs within our community.. and the obvious fucked up results of that on our youth and their futures.”

Terry felt his back tense up at her words before he relaxed himself. She had every right to talk about this and yet the topic couldn’t be any closer to home than it was. Here life was yet again trying to wave a red flag in his face, and it would be yet another ignored one.

“That’s a beautiful topic Mari..a really important one, I’ll be looking forward to hearing your points on it.”

Both tuckered out and tired from the day Terry headed towards one bathroom to shower and Marina headed to his other. His hands pressed firmly against the shower wall as the warm water cascaded over his sore muscles, his body called for plentiful hours of deep sleep. He was feeling deprived at this point but Marina brought him relief that sleep would come to him tonight peacefully and without the constant nightmares that haunted him. It was an attack on his mind and body that tossed him back and forth through REM sleep and deep sleep. Those souls he sought out and took came at a price, a mental one. Sometimes he wondered if he could actually ever shake the dead or if they wandered around him restlessly and unseen, waiting on their turn to torment him in the dreamworld.

He heard the tv in his bedroom switch on, an indication that somehow he was taking a longer shower than Marina had and that he was in his head longer than he had thought he was, he switched off the water before stepping out and wrapping his waist with a towel. Sleeping in bed with a woman that he had never had sexual relations with was new and he wouldn’t act as if he never thought about sex with her when she was around, because he did. Marina was fucking sexy. Her mind, her voice, her intelligence,her body..it was all a turn on for him but he was trying to do right by her, and that meant learning how to be intimate in more ways than sex.

Stepping out of his spacious walk-in closet fully clothed for bed he noticed the tv watching Marina as she laid against his pillows, remote still in hand. He accessed his smart home app from his phone and turned off his bedroom lights, weary body eager to sink into the cool mattress. She sought him out not long after he laid down, her bonnet clad head resting on his chest. He pulled her a little closer that night, her slow breathing and steady heartbeat lulling him into a deep slumber. A slumber where he met no angry souls or demons, only a warm light that encased him and drowned out the weariness.

__

“Only thing that’s saving Terry ohhh is the heart of Marinaaa.” Terry kept his left hand steady on the wheel as Marina held his right hand singing loudly into his ear as she currently butchered Summer Walker's newest single.Why he let her down those three shots of tequila he did not know. Either way it went he loved seeing her let loose, and she wasn’t particularly stuck or or anything he just rarely saw this side of her.

The red satin dress was made for her, and she was practically a magnet for his affection as they both got ready. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. Her soft plush thighs were exposed to him and when she dropped his hand he eagerly rubbed and kneaded them.

He couldn’t wait for her to see where they were going. He had called ahead days ago and made preparations at his restaurant; Stone Pier. It was best known for its plentiful surf and turf meal options, fun and fresh atmosphere, and elegant dining. He had planned a three course meal for them tonight over an intimate candlelit dinner.

It took no time to arrive and Marina’s confused expression was comical to him. The empty parking lot had to look absolutely insane from her point of view, but he needed her to trust the process. She sat still as Terry blindfolded her and waited patiently for him to help her out of his car. He opened the passenger side door grasping her head and slowly leading her into the building. He sat her down at the table and removed her blindfold. Pretty eyes adjusting to the low lighting in the establishment.

“Terry woww…this place is soo beautiful. I’ve passed by it so many times and never had the opportunity to check it out.”

“Well I own it so feel free to stop by whenever. I wanted this to be special, so I figured why not bring you someplace that was as special to me as you are.”

“Well you've definitely made a good impression, this place is amazing…is that a Malcom X quote over there on the wall?

“Mhm ‘A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything’ that’s one I keep with me everyday.” He watched her eyes drag all over the place soaking in one corner and the next.

“All the greenery in here..omg all the black history. Terry, this place is a true gem. Thank you for bringing me here Smiley.” They leaned forward and shared a kiss before Terry poured them both a glass of sweet red wine and signaled for his top chef to serve their first course and he and Marina indulged in more conversation.

__

The second course consisted of herb butter steak and lobster By their third course they were both full of food and wine. They shared a slice of decadent rum cake, savoring each bite of the moist cake. He watched Marina with lazy drunk eyes as she whined her waist slightly in her seat to Marvin Gaye’s ‘I Want You’. Pretty manicured fingers pointing in his direction with every lyric.

“You want me sweetheart.. give me a dance then. Show me.” He watched her confidently strut over to him and hold her hand out.

His long arms wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her into his chest. His face nuzzled into her neck pecking at it lightly as they swayed under the glass roof, stars twinkling down at them in a dazzled fashion.

“I really like you Terry Richmond, I’ll admit that realistically I’m still a little nervous about this…but I’m learning to live in the moment and trust what I can see.”

“I really like you too Marina Evans. I’m trying my hardest to show up for you in ways that cater to you, my only hope is that in the end you choose me.” He twirled her around and held her back to his front holding her close.

They circled through a few more songs before they were ready to call it a night. He handed her his car keys to get inside while he locked up his restaurant. He shut down the dining lights and music before thanking his chef for being a huge help tonight. His phone vibrated on a repeat in his pocket and pulled it from the picket of his slacks, it was his cousin Semaj. Fuck. Semaj knew not to call him today yet he did, and that only meant one thing. Some bullshit had hit the fan, or it was going to.

[ -What’s the word man..I told you I couldn’t take no calls today about business.

[Scotty’s talking man, going around saying he been seeing you out with some girl..this shit could be a problem T. I told you that nigga was watching…he don’t just pop up.

[- If he been seeing me the whole time and I haven’t been seeing him.. it’s a chance he’s working with somebody… I thought that shit was weird earlier when he popped up but I couldn’t be too sure

[- Exactly, since when you know Scotty to be anywhere around this damn city besides the Southside… yeah something ain’t right T we need to get hands on him asap!

[- Never a day to fucking breathe around here shit.. I want you, Blue, and Prime with y’all motherfucking ears to the wind behind his ass. And don’t stop until yall find him.

[- Aight I’ll keep you posted every hour on the hour he can’t be far.

Terry ended the call and sighed heavily. He was pissed, fucking enraged. Somebody was snooping in his damn business and attempting to keep tabs on him like some coked out socialite. He wanted to regulate his temper before he was back in Marina’s grace but when he turned around he found a man talking closely to Marina through his passenger side window. His face scrunched up with confusion quickly as he made a quick walk over to his car.

“Hey my man… can I help you with something?” He had to look as agitated as he felt and the stupid expression on the man’s face was hard to ignore.

“Bro this car is fucking sick… I was just asking your girlfriend or you know whatever she is, what model this was, this has to be a custom paint job or something.” The man ran an open hand over the hood of Terry’s X6 irritating him even further.

“It’s not custom, it’s factory now get your hands off of my car and learn to admire some shit without touching it!”

“Are you kidding me man it’s just a fucking car, it’s probably rented anyways.” He sent a kick to his rear passenger door before attempting to walk away.

Terry couldn’t restrain himself anymore and he went flying at the disrespectful man. He snatched the man and turned him around to face him. How dare this man think he would walk up to him, disrespect his car and leave here unscathed.Balling the front of his shirt up Terry used it as leverage to send punch after punch to his face, he never even stood a chance against Terry.

“Terry..Terry.. wait please stop! Terry you’re gonna kill him..please.” Her helpless screeches reached his ears in a panic and Terry realized he had forgotten all about their date, his words to her. What did they really mean if he was going to beat somebody to a bloody pulp in front of her. With a menacing mug on his face he shoved the absolute waste of space to the ground and stepped over him like a patch of grass.

“Remember this ass whooping because next time I put my hands on you, they gone be singing and sending you off dressed in all black."

“Get in the car Marina…I’m ready to go.” He watched her eyes flash from the beaten man to him over and over, eyes clearly not believing the scene in front of her.

“Bu-but Terry he could die we have to call an ambulance..you can’t leave him like this please.” He shook his head no and watched a hand cover her mouth in an attempt to choke back tears.

“Get. In. The. Car. Marina..now.” She jumped at his tone before she hurried into the car, makeup smudged from the tears that came in a steady stream.

He whipped out of the parking lot quickly, headlights catching the woozy steps of the beaten man as he stumbled away.

“See he’s all good..Marina sweetheart what’s all these tears for hmm, I’m the one that got disrespected. Was I supposed to let him walk away after that shit?!” His raised voice boomed in the confined space of his vehicle and he watched her put space between them. Her body pressed into the passenger side door as she thumbed tears.

“Oh I see, I’m the bad guy now…he was all in your face by MY window touching on MY car, but you only feel bad for him…got it.” Terry gripped the steering wheel tightly and sped down the freeway. This night had turned for the fucking worse and even still he was trying to mince his words.

“Why are you yelling at me… you just assaulted someone in front of me Terry, and then you threatened to kill him. You keep speaking like I’m blaming you but I asked you to stop…to just please let him go..and yo-you just wouldn’t stop.”

“What I saw back there…that wasn’t the Terry or Smiley I’ve been getting to know…you didn’t even look like yourself back there, your face and eyes were just..I don’t know. I think I’m going to spend the rest of my days off at my own home.. I don’t even get you right now.” She continued on, and he was realizing each passing minute how royally he had fucked up.

“I fucked up Mari..I see that now. I realize that what I did back there scared you and if you think less of me after it that’ll be all on me, but I don't regret it.” Pulling into his drive way he shut off his car and rested his head against the headrest.

“You keep buckling down on what you did, but you said you would kill him. Terry, that's not something I can just ignore because he kicked your car, that’s not normal to blurt out after an altercation so small. You really hurt my feelings, and I have to think about me first.”

“Am I going to hear from you again..see you…touch you?” When he reached out to touch her she pulled away, her dark eyes turning to stare at him, analyzing what actually was in front of her. She shook her head and sighed to herself before opening the door, but Terry got up to help her out instead. She hesitated to give him her hand, but eventually she let him help her out.

He pulled her into a tight hug, fingers inching up slightly into her hair to tug lightly at it. The hairspray she used tickled his nose as he inhaled the scent of it. Her hands stayed at her sides and she made no attempt at returning the affection.

“I’m not sure Terry, I need time to think and process tonight. It was all going so well before that and I wanted to trust what you told me, but I need time.”

“A kiss goodbye then?” She looked up at him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before attempting to walk away. Terry pulled her back and held her face in his hands, full lips sucking her bottom lip into his mouth as his teeth slowly nipped at it. He wanted to savor what was left of this night because she still looked oh so good, and he still wanted her. He got as far as suckling against her jaw before she put a hand to his chest severing the connection.

“Goodnight Terry” she walked away without a backwards glance and he watched her leave from his driveway until he couldn’t see her car anymore.

He had plans on winning her back, and hopefully gaining what little trust back she had in him from the get go. Terry was a resourceful man with every resource possible at his fingertips, this situation was a bump in the road. Some shit she wouldn’t even remember eventually. So he’d let her run away for the night, get her pretty little head together for a few days. Then he was gonna win her back, one day at a time.

__

A/N: I said 10pm yesterday and it’s going on 8am😭I hope yall enjoy this nonetheless!

@blackmoonchilee @zillasvilla @simplyzeeka @megamindsecretlair @uniqueoutlierblog @blackerthings @keehendrixx @ranikyani @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @tvchi @23jammy @henneseyhoe @theereina @ovohanna24 @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @keyaho @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

# Aaron pierre #rebel ridge #terry richmond #black!oc #terry richmond black oc

[munsonsmixtapes]

hey is it possible for you to write rockstar eddie on a tour for two days and the reader has been touch starved and when he gets back readers really happy and they have um yk but it’s totally ok if you don’t feel comfortable doing this love you work btwww your so talented 💖💖💖

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it)

It's been months since you've seen Eddie. Since he's been on tour and you've been working, you've haven't had any time to go to one of his shows that was close by or even talk on the phone.

And not seeing him for such a long period of time has led to you being touch starved. You haven't been able to stop thinking about having his hands on you the second you reunite. He's due to be home any minute and you can't wait to see him, to feel his hands on you, to hold him in your arms.

Eddie's been counting down the minutes from the second he woke up. He's constantly been checking his watch since he knows the exact time he's supposed to be home. He just wants to be with his girl and every second that passes that he can't hold you in his arms is another minute he'll spend checking the time.

You hear the front door open and Eddie steps through it, pushing his suitcase aside as he opens his arms wide for you. You jump into them and wrap your legs around his waist as you bury your face into his neck. Eddie holds you tight, one of his hands moving up and down your back as the other holds onto you.

You pull away and stare at him, those pretty, brown eyes that you always love to look into, that hair you love to run your fingers through, to grab onto when he-

"I missed you, baby," he whispers as he leans close, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

"I missed you too," you mumble against his lips. "So much." You don't even have to tell him that but he loves to hear the words, the loving way you say them.

He kisses you again, this time slotting his lips between yours. It's slow and sweet at first but before you know it, Eddie's tongue is in your mouth and he's setting you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs.

"Need your touch. Need your cock," you tell him. "Wanna feel you."

His hands travel down your sweatpants, pushing them down your legs then tossing them somewhere behind him, followed by your panties. Once they're discarded, he removes his own, precum already leaking from his cock that he slides into you as he spreads your legs wide.

"So tight, baby," he groans as he pushes inside you, his hands digging into your hips as he does so. "Didn't take care of yourself while I was gone?" The question is genuine, not mocking like it may seem.

"I couldn't," you tell him between labored breaths as you buck your hips against his. "It just made me think of you and then I got sad."

"You missed me," he says knowingly. "But I bet you missed my cock even more." Eddie slides all of himself inside you and you moan loudly, bucking your hips again, clenching around him as you do so.

"Fuck," you whine as your back arches. "Touch me," you beg. "Please."

He pumps even harder, your moans getting even louder. His hand reaches up your shirt and cups your breast, giving it a squeeze as his lips find yours in a hot kiss, his tongue taking no time to slide into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth as his thumb moves to your nipple, massaging it. His other hand continues to dig into your hip, pulling you even closer and your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking at his back.

His pumps continue and you already feel spent having not done this in months. But it's the best you've felt in so long so you don't dare tell him to stop even though you're close to throwing in the towel.

"See?" He asks as he looks down at where the two of you are connected, his his other hand moving to massage your other nipple. "We've still got it. I'm gonna fuck you on every single surface of this apartment until you can't walk. And then I'm going to carry you to bed where we're going to sleep until the afternoon and them I'm gonna do it all again to show you just how much I missed you."

"Yes, please," you moan as he picks you up, his hands grabbing your ass as he carries you to the couch, setting you down on it before lying on top of you, pumping his cock in and out, in and out as you beg for more, scratching up and down his back in response to how good he's making you feel.

"Just like that," you whine, bucking your hips against his again and again, your nails digging into his back, leaving crescent shapes anywhere you can. You're close, you can feel it.

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you have the best orgasm of your life, Eddie encouraging you as you do, and once you've come down, you push him so he's the one with his back against the couch, fully intent of riding him until he has an orgasm of his own.

And Eddie fulfills his promise of fucking you on every piece of furniture in the apartment, making you come over and over and he does carry you to bed afterwards where he puts you in one of his t-shirts before pulling you to his chest where you fall asleep soundly, knowing that you have your man back in your arms.

[burdenandacrop]

Hiii! Can I just say that I genuinely love your writing, I’ve read so many Schlatt writers (and no shade to them,I love them and their work too) but yours just always gets me, also you just seem like a really cool person in general too😭

Anyways I have a submission where reader and schlatt are having a baby and their in the labor room after she has just given birth and reader is just admiring their baby with schlatt, or the opposite where he’s admiring her and their baby, like just a really ‘sun and moon’ by mage tears inspired writing, really calm and sweet and precious moments between the two. Anyways I love you and you’re hope you doing well pretty!!😋😋

all i need.

♡ navigating new life is confusing but beautiful, but it's not a challenge when such sweetness is granted in the human form of him. now you have the fruition of your love, all bundled in cotton.

♡ established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, trying out a new writing style so bear with me, fem reader.

isn't it sweet?

the words fluttered your mind, an amalgamation of poetic words to try and perfectly detail this new found feeling. if you could only piece any string of letters to describe this light souring in your chest. only a heartbeat could be appropriate for this.

her heartbeat. your fingers brushing against the knitted blanket wrapped around her tiny body, attempting to count how many beats her little heart paced a minute. her sweet eyes closed as you gazed at her even tinier face, how could something so small arrange such a huge feeling within you?

the rustling of the near plastic sheet arose as schlatt nudged himself closer to you, you could hear how deep his breaths were. knowing the both of you couldn't have imagined it would feel this way, sure the two of you haven't spoken. it doesn't take words sometimes though, rather a moment. even a moment of silence.

silence can fill so much, especially when it's something like this. you ripped your eyes off of her and turned to him, letting out a huff of air that was a bit too loud for comfort. every sound felt like a ear piercing alarm, the only sound that was tolerable was her little sleeping babbles. you just wanted to drink in the peaceful silence, fearing it would slip right out of your fingers if you blinked.

can i cry right now?

the sentence kept beckoning in the back of his head, it was the only words that felt necessary. how could he be looking at something like this and not feel the need to just, cry. obviously not out of sadness, rather of the reality that he wasn't just a simple title anymore. he brought in life. actual life, with you.

his mind kept wandering on the possibilities, would she get his smile? would she get your cleverness? could she be everything he needed to complete the sore spot in his chest that left aching? he could only pray that he would hand the same gentle love that was left tattooed on his heart from her. even if she'd only been in this world for a few hours, this was the rest of anything ever.

his eyes wandered to the warm morning sunlight beaming onto the edge of the bed, trying not to crack to himself as he realized his daughter was going to be an early bird by popular theory. much different to himself, he looked back to her sleeping state. how the blanket over her cradled body heaved up and down, almost matching the beeps from the hospital's machinery. what a beautiful way to put it, she matched everything now.

he wasn't ever the type to be outwardly sensitive, but it was awfully hard to not be in this moment. he curled his bottom lip in his teeth, the gentle sting as he desperately tried to control his emotions. he wasn't the one who just gave birth, you were. yet somehow, in life's funniest ways, he was the one who had to keep reminding himself that this was real. it was just hard to take in, something that he helped create, could be this wonderful.

don't want to blink.

you couldn't, rather you simply fought not to. the small details of her skin were too remarkable to not gaze at for hours, a small grin creeping on your lips as you realized she had the tiniest birthmark shining on her cheek. it almost matched the little patch of red schlatt would get when he blushed on the side of his temples.

that was the beauty of detail, but it showed how much you loved him. how much you love and were going to grow love for her, as well. you pondered to yourself, the gentle white noise cutting through your ears from the quiet fan. if you could bottle this, you absolutely would. though the thought that this would disappear before you knew it, absolutely ached you.

she was going to grow, learn to smile, or worse ; gain schlatt's attitude. of course, only a playful joke. you could only dream she'd look up to him, look up to you. see you two as the pair you desperately longed for, be the reality that you made your fantasy. that, you could. which made it even all more worth it, your mind reeling at all the things you were able to provide for this sweet girl.

the thought alone was enough to bring your eyes to gentle tears, hoping a whimper from the emotion wouldn't sneak out of your lips. you could've blamed it on the pain medication that was slowly making it's way into your system, but you didn't want that. it would only conclude with you sleeping, you couldn't. you had this, her, him. her and him. all you would need, forever.

i'm not so afraid of it anymore.

he thought to himself, all the talks from his own father. every man he looked up to, all of their words hitting him at once. though, it didn't seem to matter in the moment. the look alone of her was enough to convince his rather bitter mind that he could in fact be something more. he was something more. right now.

he looked back to you, watching as the tears bubbled on your waterline. what a sight to see. he knew he called you beautiful, gorgeous, or whatever compliment he fished out of his brain; but right now he really couldn't come up with a word to best describe how genuinely unreal he found you. the puffiness in your skin from all the physical pressure of childbirth, or how your hair stuck up from all the static around you.

he knew you'd practically bark at him for daring to call you attractive or any synonym of that term right now, but he definitely had the words bubbling up in his chest. just aching to be spilled from his lips that were desperate to cut through the silence, just so you knew how precious he found this moment. even if it meant tearing into the white noise around and looking you into the eyes to just say 'you did a great thing.'

instead, his lips fumbled on his own words. he leaned into your shoulder with the lightest pressure he could give to you, still fearful that you would break like literal porcelain after preforming such a physical work out. "sweet." he whispered, unsure on why he only said the one word. why he whispered it, even. his own soft tone surprised him, he was capable of being so nurturing?

it is nothing short of sweet.

his sudden words caught you off guard, steering your eyes back to him. only being met with the same look you had on your face, perfectly printed all over his. you let the tear trickle down your cheek as you smile fondly at him, unable to even get your words together to reply, but his eyes just screamed, 'i know, i know.'

he sighed out, leaning his forehead to rest gently on the top of your head. being sure to flourish his lips against your head, only way he could properly communicate it. fluttering his eyes shut, knowing the waterworks were going to make their way if he didn't. "i don't think i've loved you more." his words lingered in the air, kissing your head once more, becoming more feverish by the next peck. "than in this moment." his words choked out more.

his eyes squeezed shut as he felt the warmth rush up to his head, they were definitely coming. you tenderly smiled and looked back down to her, seeing her eyes slowly open. her curious eyes looking right up at him, her little forehead crinkling as she desperately tried to figure out, what was that voice i just heard?

"baby, look." you softly cooed, making him lift his head off of you to eye down, being met with her eyes open and darting right at him. that was the final touch for him, seeing how beautiful her eyes looked as they curiously searched his face. his grin growing by the second as he bathed in the silence between the two of them. this was love, right here. this is how love was supposed to be.

eyes like mine, heart like yours.

it was almost like she had a ray of yellow around her face, a perfect ring of promise. her eyes being living proof that life goes on, time is worth waiting, but now time, was well, time. the second her brown eyes met with his own, he realized there wouldn't ever be enough time to bask in her presence. almost a cruel joke, not being able to nurture the moments long enough, cause when you find them ; you wouldn't ever be able to bottle them.

but he had it right now, right in front of his eyes. "hi sweetheart." he cooed out, reaching out a hand to the fold of her blanket. roaming his thumb along the soft knitted fabric, how warm she must've been under all the yarn. her eyes seemed to follow his every moment as he spoke, "i think she recognizes your voice." you whispered out, but her eyes remained fixed on him.

he softly nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat, shakily smiling as he gently patted the wrapped blanket before pulling his hand away slowly. "yeah." he choked out, wiping the tear from his cheek, and attempting to fix his breath. he couldn't be such a mess, especially with you. nor her. "i don't think i can ever thank you enough." he muttered out with a stifled sigh, resting his heavy head onto you. feeling the anchor being lifted off of him.

he didn't have to be strong, this statuette of agility. he was allowed to be clay, soft and warm moldable clay for this new life to form him into this new edge. maybe make his words softer, his eyes seek out kindness more, his fingertips only fix. this was all he could've hoped for, he just didn't know that all along this was he was hoping for ; not until it popped right in front of him.

tired but happy.

you watched the moment occur between the two of them, knowing this was the start of something you wouldn't have been able to even fathom in the past. this wasn't your past though, it was something to prove it has washed away. a silent omen that you did it, you overcame. now rewarded with something so gentle.

her eyes moved to yours, almost startling you. did she feel it? could she even feel what you were? that was the ethereal part of it all, somewhere deep in the atmosphere ; everything in this room knew. even the resting wood in the walls, how the sun shine began to dance on your shoulders, seeing the branches move with the wind. the shadows casting along her dear face.

everything had it's purpose, the doors were open. it was just up to you and him to keep them open, and that answer was quite clear. the simplest yes you could ever say, this was destiny. for once in your life, you thought it ; and genuinely believed it. just by the look in her eyes, you knew. life wasn't a boulder, it wasn't something to waste away focusing on the bitter side. you had these landscapes painted in front of your eyes this whole time, it just took the look in her eyes to help you color them in.

no more grey, no more blandness. your pallet of life was now only going to be consistent of yellow, pink, shades of orange. she was your sunset, he was your cushioned bay window to watch it grow on. maybe some days it'd be purple, or dark. maybe some days you'd even miss the colors change, but you knew you'd be there to watch it none the less, like clock work. how could you imagine something much more meaningful than what was bestowed right in the crook of your arm. real meaning, and it could only age well. the only sting was how long the colors would last, but the hourglass could wait. all you had was now, and that's all the two of you would ever want or need.

author's note : i throughly appreciate your patience with me, i hope you know i lauve you. also . . . how do we feel about the writing style for this ? i hope you love it, even if it's a month late. never forgot about it !! tee-freaking-hee-hee.

[emilys-bangs]

this celebration thing is so fun and congrats on the followers :) the fluff prompt #62 “it can wait until tomorrow” might be a good emily one. like she puts off work to go have fun w reader or make time for date night or something like that. up to you, love your writing <3

I’m so glad you’re having fun with it! I am too ;) and tysm, hope you like this <3

Join my celebration here

Word count: 0.9k

Emily frowns down at the paperwork littering her desk, a throbbing headache clawing its way to her temples. Her pen is held loosely in her hand as she gives herself a small break from writing, her fingers cramped and aching.

She has yet to get used to this part of the job.

If she can focus on anything other than the infuriating red tape she’s trying to work her way through, she’d notice the way her shoulders are tense, the ache in her lower back from sitting too long.

As it is, she doesn’t notice these things. Not until a knock sounds on the door and she looks up, finding you just across the threshold of her office.

“Hi,” you smile, beautiful if a little hesitant—it couldn’t be at disturbing her, could it? You do it all the time.

Then her gaze dips down to your outfit, fancy and way too nice for the bullpen, and the realization dawns with a click.

Emily stands up, the pen falling from her hand and thudding onto the desk. “I’m so sorry, it slipped from my mind.” She blurts, and the brief worry on your face smooths out as you smile and cross the floor of her office.

“It’s okay, pretty,” you hum as you reach her, leaning over her desk to steal a kiss. Emily’s cheeks heat at the title, dropping so lovingly from your mouth even when your planned date night slipped from her mind.

“It’s not,” she murmurs, her words muffled against your lips. Her hand travels to your waist and she squeezes lightly, “Just give me a minute, I’ll pack up and we can go.”

You were supposed to go have dinner—location unknown, a precaution that you had started taking after one too many dates had been canceled in favor of a case—about, Emily looks down at her watch, half an hour ago. Darkness presses itself against her office windows, the cotton candy pink of the sunset long gone while she labored away at her desk.

“We don’t have to,” you say, still holding on to her. That in itself tells her your words are less than genuine, even without hearing the slight uncertainty to your voice. It’s been too long since the two of you went out. “If you’re busy.”

“I’m not.” Emily lies. The mountain of paperwork behind her betrays her, but it’s something that can wait, damn it, and she’s not going to postpone another date night if she can help it. “Just give me a minute.” She repeats.

She barely lets go of you before you’re protesting. “Emily, it’s fine,” a frown draws your brows together as you peer over her shoulder, “that stack looks awful, I wouldn’t want it to pile up on you even more—”

Emily takes your hand off her waist and brushes her lips along your knuckles, promptly shutting you up. Her fingers curl around yours as your mouth audibly snaps shut, a hitch in your breath that she’s too close not to hear.

“It can wait until tomorrow.” Emily insists, her voice purposely low and soft; smoky, like the warm remnants of a bonfire, but also firm in the way she’s learned to be since becoming Unit Chief.

Stubborn as ever, you still try to persist. “But—”

“Hey, hey, I’m the boss.” Emily interrupts. She has half a mind to kiss you brainless, just to slow down that mouth of yours. 

On second thought—

Emily gently pinches your chin and brings you closer, until your lips meet hers. The fight audibly leaks out of you as you sigh into her mouth and melt into her, your hands digging into her waist. The feeling is heavenly, reminding Emily just what exactly she’s fighting you so hard for. A matching sigh leaves her lips; it echoes in the space between your bodies.

Before she can get too carried away, Emily leans back. “And the boss commands you to take her out,” she cups your face, gently nuzzling her nose against yours.

Your bottom lip slides between your teeth. “I’m not sure if you know, but I take my boss’ orders very seriously.” She loves the way you’re a little breathless, inhaling and exhaling in soft pants against her lips.

Emily winks, spidery lashes kissing her cheek. “I was counting on that.”

Your face lights up as you grin. You start backing away, but your hand links insistently with hers, pulling her with you. “And you know how I hate to disappoint you, Chief,” you tug impatiently as Emily resists the pull to pocket her phone, a low chuckle leaving her mouth.

“Just a second, my love. You’re so impatient.” She tsks, letting your arms pull taught as she shuffles the rest of her scattered paperwork in a pile—one handed, because apparently there’s glue smeared between your palm and hers.

You let out an indignant sound and the tension between your locked hands loosens as you let go. Emily frowns, but a second later you tackle her from behind, your arms wrapping around her neck. 

“Take that back!”

The sound of your intertwined laughter spills out of her office and down the stairs. Soon later the shadows of your retreating forms follow across the dim bullpen as she pulls you out, eager for a night of bliss spent with you.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[missposessive]

same bitch who requested the last wrio pregnancy stuffs but I need more and I'm like kinda in love with your writing so I want to request MOREEEEEEE anyways how he deals with reader third trimester (WRIO DOTING ON U CUS UR SO ROUND AND CUTE AWEEHFUREILFRUEIWHFCIR) anyeyss thanks for listening ily nova

-> third trimester

synopsis -> wriothesley during ur third trimester of pregnancy. self explanatory

a/n -> anon ur my spirit animal i love ur energy (and u 😉) but anyways i could write so much more lmk if anyone wants a part 2

warnings -> pregnancy, lactation and vomiting mentions, besides that pure fluff

w/c -> 1.6k

he doesn’t know how to feel the moment you tell him you’re officially in the third trimester of your pregnancy. it all went by so fast, he thinks it was just yesterday you called him into the bathroom to look at the small test that changed your lives in the greatest way possible.

and now, you were almost finished growing your daughter. anyone who even took a glance your way could certainly tell that you were having a child, and it’s certainly the dukes. 

the women of the fortress have been keeping tabs on you and your pregnancy, awaiting the day you walk with your baby in your arms instead of in your stomach. they’re so nice to you, so wriothesley allows you to wander sometimes because of it. they’re always willing to make you comfortable and give you some of the nicest labor-inducing teas they can find.

now, this is around the time he’s likely going to take a work leave, or just not work as often. his job requires his undivided attention, and he has to be flexible and able to be there in case a tragedy, like the seal breaking, were to occur. (hopefully not, because he still thinks about how he’d get you out of the fortress in time. you’re unable to run and you can barely walk at a quick pace, leaving him nervous and clueless a lot, considering your living quarters were connected to a door in his office). 

besides that, your life is pretty good, despite how uncomfortable you feel all the time. you ache everywhere, and sleep is simply not a thing that comes by often anymore. so, these are the moments wriothesley is able to step in and make sure that you’re content and as comfortable as you possibly can be. 

the main thing he needs to do for you is help you stand, considering that it’s incredibly hard for you now. you can do it of course, but it’s too much effort and you always either stand and immediately sit back down due to how winded you feel, or you just don’t try at all. wriothesleys strength comes into hand in these moments, almost making you fall forward due to how quick he pulls you up (the first time he did it, it actually happened. he caught you in time, but it left you laughing and him just there like “i almost just killed you sweetheart” and worried). 

he’s so the type of husband to barely wake up when you scoot yourself out of bed to use the restroom, and him behind you giving you a little boost to get up before going right back to sleep. he’ll try to keep consciousness while you’re out of bed, in case you fall or something happens, but as soon as he sees you re-enter the room he’s out once more. 

the only times he genuinely wakes up at night is when you frantically shake/tap him or you’re crying. if you’re crying, he’ll sit up and turn on a light (if you want) and try to ask you what the problem is. if it’s just a cramp or if you’re just achy/not in the right position, he’ll massage you or help you reposition the pillows to ensure your comfort. 

and when it comes to you walking up his offices’ stairs? he’s incredibly paranoid about it, but he’ll try to not make it known. you had to tell him multiple times to settle, that the railing was enough to keep you on your balance, and that you were just pregnant, not paralyzed. he’ll still try to meet you down at the door to help you up the stairs, especially when you’re at your biggest point. he’d be anything but calm and composed if you were to take a tumble down them (he would have a heart attack on the spot). 

and oh, would that man dote on your belly. you’re just so adorable, how could he not? especially when you’re curled up on the couch in his office with a luxurious sherpa blanket and the roundness of your tummy under the cover is very evident. usually, he won’t be able to help himself and would lay down next to you, his head lightly propped up on your stomach or on the side of your body. on the occasions he falls asleep, you stroke his hair, reading whatever book in his office that has piqued your interest this time. 

he’s also a tease. sometimes. he’ll walk past you and gently brush a part of his body against your belly, usually his hip or his hand. but back to the point, he’ll rub it, massage it, hold it up to take off pressure from your back and pelvis, and cuddle it! you’re not gonna be pregnant forever, so he sees this as a chance he can’t waste. only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. if not, then he wont proceed. 

this man loves tea, so there's no surprise when he brings in a tea that he’d read induces labor, or at least makes for a smoother one. he honestly probably has so many of those types, presenting you the box and allowing you to choose which one you’d like this time. seeing your eyes sparkle and your fingers wiggle as you choose your tea of choice always makes his heart soar in adoration. 

and back on the tea thing, he’s on all of the times said book told you to have it. he’s always giving it to you right on the dot of the hour unless something else more important has taken his attention (which isn’t much, unless he’s in a meeting or something really bad has happened in fontaine/the fortress). 

he’s also one of those husbands who secretly makes an important note in his brain whenever you have an ultrasound or any sort of baby appointment coming up. he wouldn’t miss one for the world- even though it's one of the little things, it means a lot to the both of you when he shows up alongside you, and shows the world how devoted of a husband he is to you. cue clorinde in the corner taking care of his work for him during the hour that he’s away. 

like i said in my last post, his massages are incredible! usually, he’ll get the memo, and right when he gets home, he’ll set you in between his legs before rubbing the soreness out of your back, hips, shoulders, neck, foot, and calf. 

he likes to make those moments last longer, and makes him feel good if you feel good. sometimes he’ll add a little kiss to the top of your foot or along your shoulders when he’s done, making you giggle a little before going on about how he has no need to be so formal (in which he counteracts by saying something cheesy about his love for you to make you laugh once more). 

he hates seeing you in pain, and especially hates it when he hears you cry about how exhausted you are. no, not that he hates when you cry, he just hates that you have to do this all alone. obviously, he is there to give all of his support and more, and would carry the baby for you if he could, but he can't. and he knows you’re exhausted, but his issue is that there is nothing for him to do to help you feel at least a little better. he understands that it’ll come when the baby is born, and he’s already told you how for the first few weeks he’ll do anything and everything to care for the baby while you catch up on your hard-earned rest. 

another great thing about him is that he pays no mind to things such as lactation, vomiting, etc (i have genuinely seen men who make fun of their wives for things such as that out of their control). he recognizes that its just something that happens, and its normal in pregnancy, and he won't get mad at you if any of these things happen while you’re wearing his clothing, either. considering you dislike maternity clothes, you’ve been wearing his shirts lately, resulting in milk stains in some of them. you’re over here apologizing profusely while he gives you a soft lecture on how he understands that it's not your fault, that it's out of your control. because he also knows for certain that if this was something you could control, you’d choose to not have it happen. 

this guy is clingy at night, so when he realizes that cuddling you is kind of out of the options, either due to your absolutely obnoxious, in his words pregnancy pillow, or your belly is in the way, he’s certainly not thrilled. but he finds a way, which is usually just spooning you from behind or bringing your head to his chest. the first time you two did the second method, you felt embarrassed, due to your tummy barely even being able to fit the gap between you and his hip, but as time went on, you just didn’t care anymore, literally laying like half on top of him. not like he cares either. thats what he wanted you to do in the first place. 

and in the times your so so clingy, wanting to just lay flat on top of him and forget about everything and just be in the warm, strong embrace of your husband, he’s even more crafty! usually uses the side method once again unless you quite literally find a position that’ll make you as close as you possibly could be to him. sometimes it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but if it makes you happy and safe and content, he won’t fight it. just know that this might be the only time you get to do that very position with him. 

overall, mans is a great fucking husband during your pregnancy, always super patient with you and would never shame you for things out of your control. you know he’s so so soft for you and you love him so so so so much.

[kandlewick]

as someone who is much too old to be enjoying classes with a bunch of teenagers, the thought of being summoned by the carriage as a full grown "i literally dropped out of college please don't give me grades or I'll cry" adult is such a funny idea. like, no ill definitely take that custodian job that you offered a child, Crowley. give me that full room and board. you're not too proud to live in a ramshackle house that comes with a free cat roommate. that sounds fantastic.

being actual nrc staff sounds like so much fun. these guys are quirky and weird but they're all so unique that you can't help but enjoy each of them. Crowley may be sort of useless but like, his heart(?) is kinda maybe in the right place. Crewel might gives you nervous hives because he's sooooo pretty and that thing he throws around makes your skin crawl but like... he's cool. Trein may appear to be a hardass (and he is) but unlike everyone ELSE on campus, he's genuinely not a bad guy. he's pretty nice for being an old man. he's got loving daughters and a cat and YOU have fake adoption papers. Vargas is. Vargas. you have to admire a man in his adult years that keeps up with his training. back in your world you were nothing more than a couch potato but look at you now. you can run a mile without collapsing in a puddle of sweat. he means well when he forces you to eat eggs with him. and then there's Sam. man what a cool dude. you're the first one he comes to when he needs a helping hand and he pays you so well for what little you do. he's a real brother in arms in this capitalistic society. easy on the eyes too.

but anyways!! these kids need actually good direct adult influences which you could totalllyy provide. you know those sitcoms with the words of wisdom from that weird guy that's on the other side of the fence? yeah that sounds like fun. you could totally pull that off. 1

you need money cause Crowley forget your paycheck? hey, azul. adults have different labor laws so that means you can work past 10 during the week days AND can operate a ladder and box cutter. you wanna hire us sooooo bad it makes azul look stupid.

also lilia gets another cooky adult to hang out. it's a win, win. let's raise a pet rock together or something. give silver a brother.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation love NSFW

Massive thank you to @pranksterzord and for putting Dinozenon on to this absolute bombshell along with next week’s Hara.

Despite my successful date with Hyewon, she hadn’t texted me back consistently. Granted, her ditzy nature probably played a part, but it still made chatting with her a convoluted mess, especially when it came to planning dates.

That’s how I found myself flying alone to Japan. I was on vacation, not working, and Hyem was supposed to be here with me. But three days before the trip, she informed me of a last-minute photo shoot she couldn’t skip, so I was on my own. Despite our mutual attraction and similar quirks, my time with Hyewon was often spontaneous at best. Since we weren’t an official couple, I couldn’t exactly complain.

I checked into the hotel and sat by the window while waiting for my keys. The view outside was serene, but the real action started when someone sat down across from me.

“Um, are you a photographer?” a voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning, petite woman with a curvy frame and an easy smile. Her big, expressive eyes held a glimmer of curiosity.

“Yeah, but I’m officially off duty today,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“Darn.” She pouted, her lips curling into a playful grin. “I was hoping you were my assigned photographer for my shoot.”

“Oh, are you a model?” I asked, my brow raised. She nodded, and as I appraised her, something about her felt familiar.

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing me as well before her face lit up. “Wait… Hiro?”

It clicked. “Iori?”

Her smile widened, and in an instant, she sprang up to wrap her arms around me in a tiny bear hug. Despite her small stature, her enthusiasm nearly toppled me over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, stepping back but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“Months, actually,” I corrected with a laugh. “Been busy with K-pop gigs lately.”

“K-pop gigs?” she teased, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess—running after idols with your camera and forgetting all about little old me?”

“More like dodging managers who think I’m there to steal their thunder,” I shot back. “But no, Iori, you’re unforgettable. How could I forget my most dramatic client?”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Dramatic? Excuse you! I’m passionate.”

“Passionately dramatic, sure,” I teased, earning a playful shove.

“Well, are they at least paying you well for all that dodging and drama?” she asked, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“They are,” I reassured her, smirking. “But if they weren’t, what would you do? Scold them on my behalf?”

“Absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and pretending to glare. “If they weren’t treating my favorite photographer well and keeping him from seeing me, I’d have to intervene.”

I leaned back in my seat, chuckling. “No need, Iori. My wallet’s happy, and now that I’m here, you can’t say I’m neglecting you.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” she said, her pout returning. Then, her eyes lit up again. “Actually, speaking of work… since you’re here and my photographer flaked, how about you step in for the shoot?”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me? I hope you’re not expecting free labor just because you’re my favorite ‘passionate’ model.”

Iori leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Oh, you’ll be paid, Mr. Fancy Photographer. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. But I might insist on dinner after, on my tab, of course.”

I feigned thoughtfulness, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Room service or a fancy sushi spot?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you order room service,” she teased. “You’re getting the real deal. Only the best for my hero!”

“Hero?” I repeated with a smirk. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Riku, if you haven’t figured it out by now,” she said, standing and leaning down to look me in the eye, “I only hire heroes, and the occasional villain. Speaking of Say Hi to Hiro for me”

I rolled my eyes listening to her before responding, “I’ll tell him,” After getting my room keys, we headed to her shoot in a black car she had waiting outside. As soon as the doors closed, Iori turned her body toward me, her knee brushing against mine.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?” she asked, her tone dripping with casual curiosity but her smile giving away her playful intentions.

“Just a week,” I replied, leaning back. “Figured I’d decompress, maybe take some photos for fun if inspiration hits.”

“Well, inspiration just walked into your life,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me exaggeratedly. “You could shoot me all week. I promise I’m a very cooperative model.”

“Iori, I’m pretty sure you’re the opposite of cooperative,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She gasped in mock offense. “Me? I’m an angel. Aren’t I an angel?”

“Sure. An angel who gets her photographer to break his vacation plans.”

She nudged my arm. “You’re on vacation and working for me—it’s the best of both worlds! Plus, I’m way more fun than lounging around by yourself. Admit it, Riku”

Iori leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand casually grazed my thigh. “Besides, you know you missed me.”

“You know, I think I missed the peace of not being teased every five seconds,” I said, shooting her a dry look.

“You love it,” she shot back confidently, laughing. “Remember the last shoot? You couldn’t stop smiling whenever I messed with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you love that too,” she said, grinning like she’d won.

When we arrived at the location—a sleek studio tucked into a corner of downtown Tokyo—she stopped me just before getting out of the car. Her hand caught my wrist, and she looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Promise you’ll make me look good today?” she asked, her voice softer, almost sweet.

I smirked, leaning just slightly into her space. “I can’t promise to do the impossible, Iori.”

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked my arm lightly. “Rude! You better make me look amazing, or I’m telling everyone you’re terrible to work with!”

I chuckled as we climbed out of the car. “Relax. You’re not exactly difficult to photograph. Even if you’re difficult in every other way.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through mine as we headed into the building. “I’m gonna make you eat those words by the end of the day, Riku.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said, matching her grin.

The shoot location turned out to be a secluded beach, with crystal-clear waters and smooth, white sand stretching for miles. A small tent had been set up near the shore as a makeshift dressing area, and Iori wasted no time dragging me over to it, chattering excitedly about the theme of the shoot.

“Alright, Riku, you’re about to see me in my element,” she declared, flipping her hair dramatically as she stepped into the tent.

I leaned against a nearby rock, fiddling with the camera I’d borrowed from the studio while she rummaged through racks of swimsuits and accessories. “Your element? Is that just code for finding new ways to annoy me?”

“No, my element means being absolutely stunning,” she shot back from inside the tent. “But I can multitask.”

I chuckled, adjusting the camera settings as I heard the rustle of fabric. “You’ve got about twenty minutes of good sunlight before we lose that golden hour glow, so try not to waste it coming up with comebacks.”

The tent flap opened slightly, and Iori peeked out, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, Riku, you’ll want to take your time with this.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out in a two-piece swimsuit—a simple but elegant black number that hugged her figure in all the right ways. She struck a playful pose, placing one hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well? Do I look camera-ready?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine.

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately dragging my gaze from her head to her toes. “You look like you’re about to cause some lifeguard emergencies.”

She laughed, walking closer and poking me in the chest. “Flatterer. You’re supposed to act professional, remember?”

“Who says I’m not being professional?” I shot back, grinning. “I’m just objectively stating the facts.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Objectively, huh? Should I be worried you’re getting distracted?”

“Not distracted,” I replied, lifting the camera and pretending to take a shot of her face. “Just… appreciating the subject matter.”

Iori took a step closer, tilting her head as she reached out to adjust my shirt collar, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “You know, Riku most photographers would be tripping over themselves to compliment me more. You’re surprisingly hard to fluster.”

I lowered the camera, meeting her gaze. “If I flattered you anymore, your ego might not fit in the frame.”

She gasped in mock outrage, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re immune to my charms.”

“Who says I’m immune?” I replied, smirking.

That seemed to catch her off guard, just for a moment, before she laughed. “Touché. Alright, Mr. Smooth, let’s see if your photography skills are as sharp as your tongue.”

She spun around, walking toward the shoreline with an exaggerated sway in her hips. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I followed her, camera in hand.

By the time we reached the water’s edge, she’d dropped into her first pose—one hand in her hair, the other brushing lightly against her thigh as she gazed out at the horizon.

“Ready when you are, Riku,” she called, her voice teasing. “Try to keep up.”

I lifted the camera, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, Iori. I’ve got you in my sights.”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the shooting,” she quipped, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.

As I snapped the first few photos, the banter continued, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

Here’s the continuation with a detailed scene of the rest of the shoot, Iori’s heightened flirting, and her big reveal:

The shoot continued along the shoreline, with Iori shifting effortlessly between poses. Her movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as if the camera and the beach were extensions of her. But her banter never ceased, each comment laced with a flirtatious edge that kept me on my toes.

“Riku, make sure you get my good side,” she teased, turning slightly and giving me a playful wink.

“You don’t have a bad side,” I replied, my tone more automatic than intentional. I was too focused on framing the shot to think much about the words.

She froze mid-pose, her eyes widening for a split second before a sly smile spread across her lips. “Ooh, are you trying to sweet-talk me now?”

“Just stating facts,” I said, crouching slightly to catch the golden light hitting her profile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” she quipped, tossing her hair. “But you should know, Riku, a girl like me has expectations when a guy talks to her like that.”

I paused, lowering the camera to give her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just grinned and dropped into another pose, arching her back slightly as the waves lapped at her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a sing-song lilt.

Her teasing continued as I directed her to move up the beach for more shots. Every step seemed intentional, every glance charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Riku, you’re awfully quiet,” she said as she adjusted the straps of her swimsuit. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a small laugh, focusing the lens again. “I’m trying to do my job, Iori. Some of us actually take this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” she said, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward slightly, her hair falling into her face in a way that would make any photographer salivate. “I’m just wondering how serious you’re taking me.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I took another shot. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting… different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stood and sauntered over to me.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, lowering the camera. “You’re just… really on me today. I don’t remember you being this—”

“Charming? Fun? Irresistible?” she interrupted, her grin turning wicked.

“—relentless,” I finished, trying to maintain my composure as she stepped into my personal space.

“Aw, poor Riku,” she cooed, reaching out to tug at the strap of my camera. “Am I making your job harder?”

“You’re making something harder,” I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting it when her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, what was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Let’s finish this shoot before we lose the light.”

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Iori stood by the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet as I packed up the equipment.

“Thanks for stepping in today, Riku,” she said, her voice softer now but still playful. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, slinging the camera bag over my shoulder. “You’re not a bad model to work with, even if you’re a bit of a handful.”

She laughed, turning to face me fully. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But, uh…” She hesitated for the first time all day, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cover-up.

“But what?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, then smiled up at me, a mix of confidence and nervous energy in her expression. “I wasn’t just teasing you all day for fun, you know. I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Go out with me,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. “On a real date. Not as a model and photographer, but as…” She trailed off, then shrugged with a grin. “As two people who obviously have chemistry.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait, is that what all of this was about?”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “What, did you think I just flirt with every guy I work with?”

“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Riku. What do you say? Dinner, drinks, maybe a walk on the beach—this time without a camera between us?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. The day had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that her teasing might mean something more. But looking at her now, with the setting sun casting a glow around her, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt.

“Alright,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You win. Let’s see if you’re as charming off-camera as you are on.”

She beamed, her face lighting up in a way that made me momentarily forget how exhausted I was. “Oh, Riku, you’re in for a treat. I’m even better when it’s just the two of us.”

We ended up at a cozy seaside restaurant, the kind of place with dim lighting, ocean breezes, and candles flickering on every table. Iori had insisted on picking the spot, declaring that she wanted “something romantic but not too romantic.” Judging by the way she looped her arm through mine as we walked in, I had a feeling she leaned more toward romantic than not.

As soon as we were seated, Iori wasted no time making herself comfortable—both physically and emotionally. She leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hand, her soft smile never wavering as her other hand played idly with the hem of my sleeve.

“So, Riku,” she began, her voice dripping with warmth, “are you going to admit this is the best date you’ve been on in years, or do I have to keep working for it?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s not a competition, Iori.”

“Everything is a competition if you want it badly enough,” she shot back, her grin playful yet confident.

Before I could respond, she reached over and lightly traced her fingers along the back of my hand, sending a shiver up my spine. “Besides, I’m winning, aren’t I?”

“You’re definitely doing… well,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to navigate her relentless charm.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to light up the entire room. “Riku, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. I almost forgot how fun it is to mess with you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“Not true,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve grown a lot. I’m more poised, more sophisticated…” She trailed off, then smirked. “But I still love teasing you. Some things never change.”

Her words struck a chord, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing.

“I still remember the first time we worked together,” she said, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

I smiled at the memory, the edges of it still vivid in my mind. “Yeah, I was so nervous. You were my first gravure model, and I was completely out of my depth.”

“You didn’t show it,” she said, her voice gentle. “You were so focused, so professional. I remember thinking, ‘This guy’s different.’ Most photographers I worked with back then were either too shy or way too pushy. But you? You made me feel like a person, not just a… well, you know.”

“A model?” I teased.

“A pretty face,” she corrected, her gaze locking onto mine. “You treated me with respect, Riku. That’s rare in this industry.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Iori, ever perceptive, took advantage of my silence to scoot her chair closer, her hand finding its way to my arm.

“You know,” she said softly, her tone shifting, “I always wondered why we didn’t stay in touch more after that shoot. You left such an impression on me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten about me. You were so busy back then, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” she repeated, laughing lightly. “Riku, you’ve never been a bother. If anything, I’ve been waiting for years to run into you again.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I felt something shift between us. Iori’s usual teasing demeanor had softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine.

As the evening wore on, Iori’s affection only grew. She reached out to brush imaginary lint off my jacket, rested her hand on mine whenever she laughed, and even leaned her head against my shoulder when the waiter brought our dessert.

“You’re really going all out tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice light but my heart racing.

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes sparkling. “I just want you to know how much I’ve missed you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself smiling despite the knot forming in my chest. “I missed you too, Iori. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

She grinned, her charm slipping back into play. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you disappear again.”

After we finished our meal, we walked along the beach under the moonlight, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us. Iori slipped her arm around mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we strolled.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surf, “tonight feels like a dream.”

I glanced down at her, her soft features glowing in the moonlight. “Why’s that?”

“Because I finally got to spend time with you,” she said simply. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re… different, Riku. In a good way. You’ve always been different.”

Her honesty left me speechless, and for the first time that night, I felt the weight of her feelings sink in. Iori wasn’t just flirting for fun or teasing me out of habit—she genuinely cared.

As we reached the end of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me, her hands resting lightly on my chest. “So, what do you think?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine. “Was this date worth the wait?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, it was. You were worth the wait, Iori.”

Her cheeks flushed, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek before pulling back with a shy smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I plan on making up for lost time.”

And just like that, the teasing, the charm, and the nostalgia all fell into place, leaving me with one undeniable truth: I was falling for my old friend, and there was no turning back.

We head back to the hotel, and we head up to my room. Iori and I sit next to each other on the bed. Silence eats through the room as we try to find the words, but words weren’t found when Iori and my eyes lock she’s straddling me moments later. Her lips pointed like daggers as she kisses me all over. Her voice husky with lust,

“I need you Riku,” she whimpers. Her big puppy dog eyes stare at me innocently despite her demands being not so innocent. After she’s had her fill she pushes me off the bed her eyes are frantic. “Get your cock out,” she growls possessively as she lifts up her dress revealing an adorable set of light blue bra and panties. I lean in and kiss her.

She bites my lips in between kisses.

“Fucking get that cock out right now,” Iori growls again. I follow her instructions and as soon I pull out my cock she tears open her panties feverishly before lining me up with her entrance, “fuck you’re so hard for me,” Iori groans before locking her legs behind her hips and forcing me inside of her.

“Oh fuck you’re just as big as I had hoped,” she says as I bottom out into her tight cavern. I moan as lean around her. she smiles at me before saying, "Fuck take me." I slowly begin to thrust inside of her as he walls viciously clench me. I posseviely claw at her breasts as I continue to rut into her. she moans delirous before saying "God yes. I have been waiting for this for so long,"

I wrap my arms under her waist as I thrust deeply into her. Her big breasts jiggle and sway pleasantly as my thrust send undulations of pleasure throughout her body. I watch as her eyes roll back and she smiles at me grateful before pulling me in close.

"I missed you so much Riku" Iori moaned in my ear. I smiled before replying "I missed you too." she groans as my Cock hits deep into her womb,

"oh fuck I'm cumming she says, as she clenches my manhood in a futile attempt to milk it for all it's worth. I decided to keep going a she comes down despite her please to stop for a bit

"you wanted me to take you," I growl possesively and she moans overstimulated and overpleasured.

"Fuck then take me. Make me your woman," she moans repeatedly like a mantra. So I take her.

Iori arches her back so I can thrust deeper inside of her, and as her pussy clenches me she moans and says, "Fuck"

I groan as we lock eyes before saying, "You wanna have my kids, because I'm gonna breed you," Iori smiles as I thrust harder, and her pussy clenches me harder before saying,

"Fuck please. Make me a mommy," Her words send me over the edge as I explode inside of her. her walls clench my cock as I keep cumming inside of her. she groans satisfied as we both fall into my bed exhausted.

when I wake up the next day Iori is sucking my cock. she smiles and says, "part of you was already awake and I don't think you got a good enough taste of my body." I groan and she smiles before angling herself up. Her massive tits hover over my cock and Iori smiles. She lowered herself and wraps her breasts around my dick. Her soft and warm breasts overwhelmed me.

“Ah fuck. Oh god!” I moan out and Iori smiles.

"You like my tits?" she asks

"Fuck I love them… no scratch that I love all of you." I say as she continues fucking me with her boobs.

"Good then cum all over them." she says as I cum all over her tits. as my seed flies all over her face and chest she smiles and says, "you're my boyfriend now."

[r0-boat]

Please give von lycaon x pregnant reader I really want to see this wolf gentleman absolutely spoiling reader non stop as I’m totally seeing his tail wags as he gently caress reader stomach as I’m totally seeing him growling and very protective over reader too headcanons please gosh I wish he was my butler so bad

Oh my God I love this!

Von Lycaon as the father of your kids

Von lycaon x pregnant!gnreader (+more)

Cw: pregnancy, children, one moment of labor (Don't worry it's not in-depth or anything)

He tries to control himself so he is not growling or gnashing his teeth at people like some street hound. But That doesn't mean he doesn't get super tense when someone as much as brushes against you. He did grow once when a not-so friendly person tried to hurt you, He did not feel bad when he kicked the shit out of them.

Most of the time he's genuinely protecting you against yourself. Most of the time, it is just mundane things. Picking up Sharp objects, even knives in the kitchen, or getting on ladders when he warns you that you could fall, if you are a hollow raider, That is simply out of the question, He will not even let you consider going near hollows. He reminds you multiple times that he will gladly do anything for you so you don't have to lift a finger for nine months, though you still try to do stuff on your own, much to his dislike.

A part of him wants to be home taking care of you, holding you close, cuddling up to you, feeling this pops in your stomach after he brewed you a nice cup of tea and feeding you a plate of whatever concoction you are craving this time. Another part of him screams at him to provide, Go and work extra hard, bring back money and food, and provide for pregnant mate.

When he is home, he does not leave your side; He is practically attached to your hip, following you at a very short distance; he is your shadow. When you try to do anything, he takes over immediately. And I mean anything. You're trying to wash dishes? "Here, dear, let me take over. You try to reach for something on the top shelf? "Let me get that for you, love." Trying to get your shoes on, "Ah, here, sweetheart, sit down And give me your foot." It gets worse with each month.

As soon as Lycaon comes home, he instantly rushes to your side, a hand lovingly around you, another hand on your stomach, asking you how your day went.

About 7 to 9 months in, he'll start talking to the baby in your tummy; someone probably told him that the fetus can hear sounds, or it's beneficial. So he thought he could have His child get used to him. It's cute watching him nervously form his words, as his tail wags. He will literally introduce himself very formally as head Butler of Victoria housekeeping and father, and then Tell them how much He loves them and wants them to be strong and healthy and can't wait to meet them, can't wait to hold them.

Baby showers, and gender reveals. Perfectly planned events lovingly hosted by Victoria Housekeeping. Nice and formal for their aesthetic yet still casual for their friends.

In the delivery room, Lycaon keeps his cool. He knows that no matter how much he's afraid, It is important to stay calm because he wants you to know that everything's okay. After everything, he admits that it was the scariest moment of his life.

Lycaon holding his child for the first time in his arms, he relaxes it's as almost as if the world stops, and it's only the three of you. He's holding his baby. They are smiling at him, and you are smiling, and he is too tired and weary.

Lycaon takes his role as a father extremely seriously, As seriously as his butler duties at Victoria housekeeping. It was a hard decision to go on parental leave for a while, but he knew everyone was in good hands. You and his baby need him. He was not going to let you do anything after giving birth. As long as he is here, he swears That you'll never be woken up by your child's cries, that you won't have to worry about a dirty diaper as long as he's around, and for until you recover all you need to worry about is resting. He tries to hold on to the burdens as much as possible, but when he sees you have your child, feed it, or play with it, his heart swells with so much love.

Lycaon, I see as a very loving and sometimes strict father; he is a stickler when it comes to rules. But but he doesn't mind bending them when the situation calls for it. He loves schedules, But he knows that children don't always stick to the schedules; sometimes, his head butler role bleeds into his fatherly one. He wants his children to grow up knowing that they could do an achieve anything They set their mind too. And he wants his children to know that they are smart and talented at anything they try to achieve,and no matter what there is always room for growth.

After birth, you are still the apple of his eye, probably even more so. With his baby in his arms, He holds you close and kisses you, nuzzles against your face, and asks you if there's anything you need. Every now and then, he comes into the room to check up on you wherever you are, whatever he's doing. He has you on his mind 24/7.

Before this, He always thought he wanted one kid; now, he might consider another one. But he knows that as the person who gives birth, your opinion matters more than his.

[gurugirl]

coming soon to tumblr | handyman!harry

821 word teaser - 10k+ one shot already posted on Patreon.

One shot summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for. Based on this request.

. . .

Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”

You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.

Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.

But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.

And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.

You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.

Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.

“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”

“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”

He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”

You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”

Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”

You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”

“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.

When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.

“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.

Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”

. . .

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xoxo

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[l0vergirlatheart]

⚝ roses protrude from the sidewalk like my love seeping out of the cracks of my once cold skin

sculptor!reader x caelus, sampo, argenti (separate) your creations suddenly escape from the clay that encased them, and they seem to know you're the one who made them oh-so-perfectly. ⚝ = dark content. cw yan-ish and religious-esc themes. "creator, god, divine," etc. playing... YABABAINA by SatapanP div. from @/cafekitsune

YOU just finished sculpting one of your favorite creations. Placing your brush down after just completing varnishing it, you decide it's finally time to take a break while you await the final layer to dry, unaware of how their eyes had now shifted to your now seated form.

At least, not until you heard something begin to crack. You look up, thinking maybe the wind knocked something over? Had one of their props fell off and you needed to re-do it? But when you glanced over at them, chunks of dried clay were breaking off of their figure, revealing a rather human-like appearance beneath them.

You shot up immediately, knocking over the water cup that held your brush, but you paid it no mind as you watched your creation in shock. You wondered if you were hallucinating, even. But you were suddenly aware of the feeling of the dried paint that was on your hands, the way your breathing grew labored, and the way your heart beat faster in your chest.

CAELUS 326 words HE DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU, he promises. It's at times like this he really wishes he could have anything other than jokes and unserious remarks flowing in those two brain cells of his.

He raises his hands in a sign of peace, meaning no harm as the last of clay falls from his now flesh body while you stare at him, wide-eyed. It's a long while until you get settled with him, and now you suppose it's not horrible to have him around. Sure, he may be straight brainrot and a little stupid sometimes, but honestly? He's gentle in general. Excluding when he's not very aware of his surroundings and swings his bat into one of your toolboxes.

He at least helps you clean everything up, his doings or not.

He thinks you're amazing. You've got the power to create life from clay, and you created him without even realizing it. However, he wishes that you didn't discover it until a little later. Now, you want to create more when he's right there.

His arms snake around you from behind as he leans his head atop wherever he can reach while you're getting your tools in order to create another sculpture - one that'll hopefully come to life just like he did.

"If you don't let go of me," You sigh as you try to pry his tight hold off of you, or at least enough to get your things in order. "I can't make anything at all, for either of us."

"Do you really need another?" He grumbled, almost sounding like a dejected dog as you simply roll your eyes and attempt to shove him off you by his head.

"You're so clingy. Calm down, you're still my first." You state simply, watching as he lights up and smiles at the realization, causing you to just groan. He still hadn't let you go yet.

♫ Thick, splendid, clever, can't stand it, good second generation!

SAMPO 252 words HE DEFINITELY WANTED TO SCARE YOU. Him and his stupid pranks, scaring you from his creation to even now, however, it doesn't mean he's all mischief. He's like, 89% mischief and 11% normal.

He's generally a good person, you could trust him with your life (albeit hesitantly,) but not your wallet. This freak loves money for some reason, and is too good of a liar. His lies never do harm you, however.

How could he harm his lovely creator who introduced him to many things?

You're so intriguing, so powerful that he genuinely can't help but stare at you while you're working, as if you were the sculpture. But don't be fooled, he whines the entire time after you learn of your powers and decide to make another.

"Whaaaat? Psh, no!" Sampo laughs as he directs his eyes away suspiciously, hands behind his back as you stare directly through him. Your arms are crossed over your chest before you sigh and hold one hand out towards him.

"I know you hid my supplies, Sampo." You say as you stare at him, slight annoyance visible on your face as you demanded for them back.

After a bit of bantering, he eventually has to give in. But only in exchange for him basically attaching himself to you for another hour.

(That's a lie, he's stuck to you for the rest of the day. You can't even finish a thing.)

♫ Huh? Huh? Huh? Can't hear anything, nothing at all, never admit a mistake!

ARGENTI 310 words HIS DIVINE GOD, HE TRULY MEANS NO HARM. And it's kind of obvious from the moment he opened his mouth, nothing but praises immediately falling from his lips as you stared at him in a mix of shock and oddity. It was a whiplash effect at first, but the longer you're with him, the more it grows onto you.

He's extremely nice to be around as long as you're okay with hearing him ramble about beauty, how amazing your skills are, how perfect literally anything you have in your home is. It could be the ugliest thing ever and he'd find some way to compliment it. He's a real confidence booster, you'd say.

The only real problem is that he's a real chatterbox. And it's not for the weak.

You're divine to him. Celestial beauty, ethereal looks no matter what angle he looks at you from. You create things almost as lovely as you are, even if you've only just learned of it. He's the few who actually encourage you to create more sculptures. Just don't forget about him, okay?

You're placing down your tools after just finishing the base of your next sculpture when he arrives. He looks a little dejected before he speaks to you, "Have you finished for today?"

You glance back at him before sighing and smiling fondly. You'd pretty much had only seen him in the morning, having been cooped up in your art room the entire rest of the day. "Yes, I am."

He lights up before eagerly beginning to ramble about what he saw today, about how beautiful you and your work-in-progress are, and you just nod along to his words whilst putting your tools away.

It's okay to pack up early for once, right? He's clearly missed you.

♫ If there's only now, isn't there no time to do unpleasant things?

[foureyedfella]

☆ I keep telling myself to leave time between posts but I get too jittery I wanna post everything all at once❗❗

☆ Here's a family photo of sorts of the Ryans!

☆ I can go on and on about headcanons but for now I'll leave this as is

☆ What I will do is sprinkle some dynamics between Aran and the rest of his family:

Alannah- seeing as she is the oldest, she is on his ass frequently 😭 when Aran was younger (12-15) he hated her, feeling that they both equally did stuff to contribute in the house but was patronized- he felt like his labor was overlooked by her and it pissed him off. By 16 his heart ripened a little bit and all it took was her helping him with a life threatening fever!! Wow awesome Aran!

Nora- closest sibling, that middle child bond runs between them HEAVY- she leeches onto him, to the pure anger of their dad, and tends to imitate him, for better or for worse 💀 while Aran is usually not even able to see his sisters all too often due to his job and his at home duties, when he can it will usually be with Nora.

Fiona- Aran is pretty protective of her, but she also gets under his skin. She is pretty much "daddy's girl" in the family, so she can and will snitch on Aran if need be. With that said, he can never truly be mad at her, she doesn't even know the true consequences that Aran gets from the snitching she just a baby. Aran will get the lights knocked out of him because of her but will still sneak her a cookie past her bedtime.

Kiera- has literally seen her like 5 times since she was born. Never has time to see her, since by 12 Aran was already given the house work and was working a job by 15. When he does see her, they just look at eachother like fish out of water.

Evelyn- despite the tough demeanor he wants to display, he is a big mama's boy. Aran was never a well behaved kid, but she always seemed to have patience with him when she was able to, and that in of itself was reassuring to Aran. Aran is only willing to help around in the way that he did because he knew it would lift a burden from his mom, who usually had to tend to her kids. He often felt himself keeping secrets from her because he didnt wanna hurt her. While he doesnt outright say it Aran loves his mom a whole lot and was pretty clingy when he was younger- when he got older, he would distance himself from her believing that the way he was would hurt her emotionally, especially when he would lash out during arguments.

Sullivan- ❗CW: verbal/ physical abuse❗ where do I begin 😭 Aran believes that his dad has a genuine grudge for him and him only, feeling that he is the only one in the house that gets punished for seemingly nothing (not that he wants his siblings to get the treatment he does, it just fuels his grudge theory). He is always at work, apparently. When he is home, it's to argue as to why Aran hadn't gotten anything done, why he is the way he is, and pretty much anything he could ramble on. There wasnt a discussion Aran had with his dad that didnt end in a screaming match, or if not, a physical altercation. He was often physically abusive too, instinctually hitting Aran with whatever was in his hands, or just his fist, when the argument occurs, usually doing field work. If it wasnt clear Aran hates this guy

☆Overall, the family became unintentionally neglectful of him, it kind of became easy to not think about someone as often when they're barely home, and with so much already happening in the house this made it even easier to forget about him

☆the reason the ages are dated so far back is because the last time Aran would see them all is when he is 17 years old, as he left the house to persue his boxing career in NY.

☆He still cares for his ma and sisters, he sends a real chunk of his paychecks to them, but cant bring himself to go back to Dublin, as he feels like he abandoned his family (Only Soda knows about this though, token drinking friend has all the knowledge)

☆sorry for the yap fest 😭 I got doodles

[rooksamoris]

Hi, there! :D

I saw that orders are open so I want to try to make my shot.

Romantic headcanons about the Scarabia duo with a reader (fem or neutral) who loves to sing and usually sings love songs to her/them respective boyfriend as a sign of her/them devotion and love🩷💕

Your Jamil and Kalim fics have made me gain a deep affection for those two characters and I love when you include Arabs in said fics, it seems beautiful to me. If my order does not convince you, you can discard it but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 🌌🌠🩷💕💐✨❤️Someday I will make some fan arts of your fics :D

💞 — in which they love the sound of your voice.

💞 — kalim al-asim, jamil viper (separately)

💞 — warnings: none, this is pure fluff and romance

💞 — 940 words. i hope i did your request justice!! also, that comment about making fanart made me squeal. i genuinely think that is the best compliment someone can get <333

KALIM AL-ASIM.

🩷 — Listen, the moment you are singing, he is joining you.

🩷 — It reminds him of the festivals in the Scalding Sands, where people sang for everything—pride for their homeland, love for their darlings, the taste of the cuisine—nearly everything was taken and made into a song.

🩷 — But the moment you start singing about love to him, sevens he feels so special. It motivates him to do just about everything. Music is such a perfect love language, and he could just die happily hearing you weave lyrics about romance to him. It makes him feel like your muse.

🩷 — Whenever he is sitting on a divan pillow, staring down at the work he does not want to complete, he glances over to you, carmine eyes all pleading. He just wants you to sing something so he can feel motivated to do his work again.

🩷 — The songs in his homeland are played more classically, with the oud (middle eastern lute) and the tablah (hand drums), and he loves that, but he is more pulled in by experimental sounds.

🩷 — His pure love for music causes him to introduce you to a lot of his favorite artists and he asks if he can play for you while you sing. Overall, it is a match made in heaven.

🩷 — He invites you to the Light Music Club’s meetings and he is constantly trying to get you to join the club. If you join, he will be extremely happy. Cater would post you guys on his social media with some sort of caption like ‘if he wanted to…’ and the comments are filled with single people talking about how they want to lay down in the middle of the highway—

🩷 — Kalim’s favorite thing is when you sing exclusively for him.

🩷 — Sure, he thinks that music should be shared with everyone, but sometimes he just wants to lock away those moments for just the two of you. Nothing is as romantic as him resting at your side, listening to the smooth melodies that would spill from your lips like the morning dew slipping off the leaves of palm trees.

“Can you sing another song?” Kalim asked, his head resting in your lap. It was just the two of you on this balcony of the Scarabia dorm. Your fingers were weaved into his hair and his golden coined headband was discarded off to the side to give you the perfect access to the white tresses. You laughed, smiling down at him as your hand trailed from his hair to his cheek, caressing his pretty and plump brown skin, “I already sang three songs for you, Kalim,” He pouted. “You, my love, are too spoiled,” you said, light-heartedly. His pouting did work since you began to sing another love song, weaving him the songs of romance that he yearned for so much.

JAMIL VIPER.

🩷 — Jamil, like Kalim, has emotional attachments to music. Nostalgia is the easiest way into anyone’s heart, and he was no different.

🩷 — Sometimes when he walked through the halls of Kalim’s estate, he could hear the other servants singing songs to keep them company. It helped them ignore any of the pains of labor and the reality of their servitude. He used to think it was stupid, but now he hums those songs as he cooks alone in the vast kitchen of Scarabia.

🩷 — If you sing for him, he only wants it to be in private.

🩷 — He never really got to have anything for himself, so whenever you are dedicating songs of romance to him, he prefers it to be in a place where it is just you two. He likes it especially when you are undoing the braids in his hair and brushing through the long dark brown strands for him.

🩷 — Soon enough, he catches onto the melodies you sing and they become the tunes he hums while cooking and cleaning. It especially happens when he knows you are not going to be joining him for a meal. Your songs make him feel close to you, even when you are not around.

🩷 — You once caught him sweeping the halls humming one of the romantic songs you sang to him. His head even swayed slightly to the beat, but the moment he saw you, he blushed and tugged his hood down, mumbling something about how he should make you wear anklets so that he could hear you before you catch him like this.

🩷 — He always had a love for music and dancing, but it always reminded him of having to dull his talents for Kalim’s take. 

🩷 — Your singing strengthens that bygone love that he had for his music. It is the one thing that not a single person can take from him and claim he was too lowly to deserve it because you gave it to him willingly. 

🩷 — Jamil is so in love. Your voice is like mango nectar on a hot summer day—sweet and healing.

He always loved it when you brewed him tea, singing whatever song came to your mind. It always made him just want to grab you, which he did. Jamil’s arms slipped around your waist and he sighed, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. He was exhausted after all the work. You stopped singing and patted his head, “Tired?”  He nodded and he let out a few curses in his native language, before kissing your collar, “Keep singing,” he muttered. All he wanted to do was fall asleep to the sound of your voice while he waited for the tea to be finished. You obliged.