#she’ll still grow???? but like… Takes A While.

[rekino2114]

Makima’s (and really anyone else you could see this ask working for) reaction to her finding her Male S/o sad after he was told by someone (I dunno who, you could decide) that she doesn���t truly love him, and that she’s just using him for her own gain, and that when she’s done with him, she’ll just discard him, and him believing what they told him.

Makima comforting you

Makima loved you. She knew that for sure. After all, you were the person who made her feel love and emotions. You changed her completely from an emotionless and cruel devil to.....a person, her love was the least she could give you to repay you for that.

She would gladly tell you how much she loved you every time you wanted, and she already did so very often, while cuddling, watching movies, and just when you were alone in her office. The words "I love you" just spilled naturally from her mouth whenever you were close to her because it was the pure unfiltered truth. She loved you with all of her newfound heart.

And you thought the same, you thought she loved you just like you loved her, even after telling you her true identity you still loved her, you knew you changed her, you saw her cry and smile for you, just like she said you changed her and made her a person. You loved her and you believed her.

But even you can't fully control your emotions, and so even if you didn't know it, a seed of doubt had already started to grow in your heart. Was she just using you? Manipulating you like everyone else? Maybe she was even using her powers without you realizing it. You didn't think those questions often, just when she was what makima was truly capable of, usually against someone who hurt you. In those moments, you remembered that she was still a devil, someone who could and would kill without hesitation. Sure, she basically only did it for you now. But you couldn't help but wonder if that was just her lying to you so you would stay loyal.

But you still loved her and all of the moments spent with her, those moments when you could feel the pure love coming from her words and touch, far outweighed those thoughts, so you decided to believe her and to continue loving her as you always did.

That was until a conversation you had with kishibe. You didn't know him that well, but you knew he was an incredibly strong devil hunter and that he knew of makima's identity. You two didn't talk much (mostly because makima didn't like him too much), but you had occasional conversations when she had to talk with him and brought you with her.

During one of these conversations, makima had gone away to take care of something, and you stayed with kishibe while he got drunk and started talking to you. It was more like a one-way conversation since you stayed silent because of the awkwardness but you still heard everything.

He called her a devil, a monster, and said that she was just using you for whatever plan she had now. Just like every other person in her life, he said you were nothing more than a dog for her, maybe one cuter than others, but still just someone she'll kill once she's done playing with.

You knew that it wasn't true, it couldn't have been, makima loved you, and you wanted to say that, but inside of you, the doubt grew larger. You knew that no matter how much you didn't want it to be true, there was still a possibility it was. And the mere thought destroyed you

"Is everything alright, darling?"

You looked up to see makima looking at you. Her eyes made you stutter a bit, but you still answered

"Y-yes don't worry"

She stared at you again and paused the movie you were watching

"Are you sure? You don't seem ok"

She got closer and grabbed your hand, making you flinch, which made her even more worried

"You never flinch when I touch you.....please tell me love, what's wrong?"

You avoided her gaze as a bit of sweat feel on your cheek. You were scared, and makima could see that

"Please y/n, you're my boyfriend, I love you, please tell me what's wrong"

Your silence and growing worry made her eyes widen and her grip on your hand tighten

"Was it someone? Do you need me to.....take care of someone?"

That last sentence pushed you over your limits, and you looked down and started crying, taking your hand off of makima's and putting it over your face

"Y-y/n!"

The control devil quickly went near you to hug you, but you pulled back and continued crying

"W-what's wrong y/n? Why are you crying? I-i-"

Looking at you crying and denying her help filled makima with despair. She hated this sight, but most of all, she hated how you kept pushing her hugs and attempts to help away.

".......y/n.....please....tell me"

Her voice wavered....something you had rarely seen before. You moved your hands out of the way of your face and saw her staring at you again but this time you noticed something that not even makima herself noticed. Her yellow eyes were tearing up

"...................makima?"

She immediately perked up at hearing you speak

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you.....love me"

"Of course I do, you're the most important person in my life"

".......Really?"

"....where is this coming from?"

"I......I've just been thinking"

"About what?"

"You I guess"

"Hm?"

"You told me you used to manipulate people to get what you wanted right?"

"Yes but that was before-"

"How do I know you're not doing the same with me?"

"........."

"I know you love me, you have to. I refuse to believe that you don't......but I'm scared of being controlled and blinded by my love for you........please be honest......do you love me?"

Makima wiped her tears a bit and sighed heavily

"To be brief....yes....but it's a lot more than that"

She looked at the ceiling and continued talking

"I don't think I started living as a person until I met you. You gave me a soul a heart and made me feel love, the love I feel for you is far greater than anything I could describe, it's a need, to continue living I need to love you and I want to love you, you're a wonderful and amazing man, you made a devil like me feel emotions so you have to be. I hate my previous self, and for me to never become that again, I need to love you. Y/n you made me a human, and I will always be grateful for that, I will repay you with my eternal love. I will never ever abandon you or let anyone hurt you. Because I love you, that is the truth"

When makima looked back down and opened her eyes, you immediately hugged her, she was a bit surprised but wrapped her own arms around you and pulled you closer to her chest

"I knew it.....I knew it was true, I love you too makima, so so much"

".......thank you"

"No....thank you....you cried...that made me understand you could feel emotions...and love...thank you for clearing up this doubts inside me"

"........I cried?.......I didn't realize it"

"Oh?"

"Sorry I must have been distracted by you.....but I think I know why I cried"

"Why?"

"Because you cried.....and pushed me away... I hated that.....being unable to comfort you...and not being with you it's horrible.......I can't live without you"

".....sorry"

"No it's alright You had doubts and that's understandable, especially because it's me... it's alright if you doubt me again but know I will always love you no matter what"

"Don't worry, I'm 100% sure you love me now after that, I....want to be with you forever too"

"...that will happen y/n I'm sure of it"

You two got closer to each other and kissed, makima smiled at you and pulled back before kissing you again multiple times

"Thank you, my love, I'm glad for your existence and your love"

[vortexbloom]

Hello there...I just passed around here to say....

DROP ANYTHING WITH YANDERE MAVUIKA, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS.....

pretty please with cherry on top :D

YESSSS 😭, like there still isn’t any Yandere Mavuika Stuff on Tumblr or anywhere at all !!!

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕧𝕦𝕚𝕜𝕒 𝕒𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 (ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤)

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕥

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

Pairing: Yandere Mavuika x Reader

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Warnings: Obsessiveness, Isolation, Possessiveness, Manipulation etc.

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

Also, I don’t own any Characters like Mavuika!

Anyway, have fun reading this :)

Protective to the Extreme

Mavuika‘s natural role as a protector of Natlan balance extends to you. She sees herself as the sole guardian of your safety and happiness, even if it means taking away your freedom.

Possessive Archon

As someone with a powerful presence, Mavuika considers you her divine blessing. She believes that you’re meant for her alone, and any threat to that bond feels like sacrilege.

Gentle yet Terrifying

Around you, Mavuika is soft-spoken and affectionate, but her darker side emerges when someone crosses her boundaries. Her wrath is as inevitable as a natural disaster.

Acts of Service

She goes out of her way to protect and care for you, whether by providing you with rare treasures or shielding you from danger. Every act is a declaration of her devotion.

Words of Affirmation

Mavuika constantly reassures you of her love, though her words carry a possessive edge: "You are mine, my light. No one else deserves to even look at you."

Physical Touch

She loves to keep you close, often placing a protective arm around you or pulling you into an embrace. Her touch is gentle yet firm, as if she’s afraid to let go.

Subtle Manipulation

Mavuika might act polite and graceful, but her words to potential rivals are cutting. She sows fear and doubt, ensuring they keep their distance.

Elimination through Power

If someone persists in challenging her claim, Mavuika uses her power to quietly remove them. Accidents, banishments, or mysterious disappearances are common.

Warnings Disguised as Kindness

She’ll smile sweetly while delivering chilling threats to anyone who gets too close to you: "It would be such a shame if something were to happen to you… wouldn’t it?"

Constant Presence

Mavuika never truly leaves your side. Even when she’s away, she ensures that her influence surrounds you, whether through protective wards or loyal agents.

Lavish Attention

She spoils you with rare and precious items, all while reminding you that no one else could provide for you like she can.

Strict Boundaries

She carefully monitors who you interact with, making excuses to keep you away from anyone she deems unworthy of your attention.

Overreacting to Small Things

If you so much as smile at someone else, Mavuika grows visibly tense. Her jealousy burns quietly but intensely.

"Marking" You as Hers

She gives you jewelry, charms, or other tokens imbued with her energy, making sure everyone knows you belong to her.

Emotional Outbursts

Mavuika‘s jealousy can lead to rare but terrifying outbursts, during which her voice turns cold and her aura becomes suffocating.

Guilt Trips

Mavuika appeals to your emotions, painting herself as someone who only wants the best for you: "Why would you leave me? Everything I do is for your happiness."

Soft Isolation

She slowly cuts you off from others under the guise of protecting you, ensuring that you have no one to turn to but her.

The Last Resort

If you ever try to escape, Maukaika will resort to more drastic measures, confining you in a safe, hidden location where she can keep you close forever.

Separations Anxiety

If you’re away from her for too long, Mavuika becomes erratic, losing her usual grace and resorting to desperate measures to bring you back.

Defiance

If you resist her control, Maukaika is heartbroken but convinced she knows what’s best. She’ll double down on her efforts to isolate and protect you.

Rival Success

Should anyone manage to get closer to you, Mavuika‘s wrath becomes unstoppable. She’ll unleash her full power to ensure no one else can claim what’s hers.

Mavuika‘s love is like a force of nature—beautiful, overwhelming, and devastating. Her desire to protect and cherish you quickly turns into a suffocating obsession, leaving you trapped in her powerful, unyielding embrace.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[moody-alcoholic]

CW: stalking behaviour, over protective 141, fluff.

“See her coming out now.” Ghost says over the radio.  

“Afirm.” Soap’s voice comes back almost instantly. Ghost watches as you stumble over the pavement, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. It’s almost 3am, and most clubs are closing. The friend you came out with left an hour ago. Now you’re alone, drunk, swaying through the streets of London on a busy Saturday night. 

“Watch your distance Soap, no need to spook her.” Price says.

“Copy.” Soap says as he weaves his way through the crowd of clubbers spilling out of the various nightclubs and bars. He keeps his head low, making sure to keep a safe distance from you. They’re not going to lose sight of you though. That’s what Ghost is for. 

He slips between the crowds on the other side of the street, slipping into the shadows every opportunity he gets. 

“She’ll take the next right. Don’t lose her.” Price says as you pick up your pace slightly. He’ll be driving to the next location, ready to pick you up at a moment's notice. You pull your phone out, typing while you struggle to keep your balance. Ghost lost track of how many drinks you had. 

It was a celebration after all, your friend getting a big promotion, she took you to one of the fanciest bars in the city. Even though she left early you still seemed to be having fun, helping yourself to another drink before finally deciding to call it a night. 

The streets off the main road are darker, quieter. Less room for error.

Suddenly you make a sharp turn, almost throwing your body down a dark alleyway. Ghost’s lost visual, he speeds up his strides, he has no idea if the alley is a dead end or not. 

“Soap, don’t lose her.” Ghost orders panic building in his chest. There’s no reply, now Ghost can’t even see Soap. “Soap, confirm visual on the target.” 

Ghost jogs to the next street over, nothing but shuttered buildings and the odd person heading home. 

“Stand-by.” The seconds feel like they’re ticking on for hours. “Eyes on target, she’s-” 

The line goes silent. 

“She’s just throwing up, seems like she’s had a few too many.” Soap says. Ghost can almost hear the collective sigh as he slips back into the darkness waiting for you to emerge from the alley. When you do you seem even more unsteady on your feet. 

“Keep it tight, she’s got another main strip to cross.” Price says. He’ll be moving on already. The amount of times you’ve walked this route. The amount of times they’ve practiced this route, it’s almost like a rehearsed play they could do in their sleep. 

You move on weaving through the growing crowds of the next cluster of clubs. They seem busier than the last. You work through them quickly, Soap keeping his distance, pushing through people without a care. He has one motive, one mission; never lose sight of you. 

As you make it to the quieter end of the street a group of lads cat-call you. You brush it off waving at them as you skip over to the next turn. Almost home. 

“ETA 10 minutes.” Ghost says hugging the shadows on the opposite side of the street. 

“Copy,” Price says, he will be in his final position. For the next few minutes the walk goes smoothly, you’re almost home, almost safe. 

“Got a guy on her six, just overtook me.” Soap says. Ghost’s eyes flick over in an instant. 

“I see.” Ghost says, watching as the man’s pace slows. “Hang back Soap. I got eyes.” 

Ghost doesn’t even hear a reply, his eyes digging into the man now following a few steps behind you. You seem to notice too, quickly taking a peak over your shoulder, pulling your jacket around you tighter. You’re almost there, almost home. 

“Want me to grab him?” Soap asks. As he says it you pick up your speed, your body straightens up. 

“Negative.” 

You turn into the front garden of the house, shutting the gate behind you. The hairs rise on the back of your neck as you fumble with the key pressing it into the lock and opening the door. The feeling of being followed suddenly fades as you make it inside, locking the door behind you. 

“Hey, welcome home.” Kyle says, sticking his head out the kitchen. You smile walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“It’s late, you didn’t have to wait up.” you say pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist. 

“Needed to make sure you got home safe.” You hear John say. You break from the kiss looking over at him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in front of him. You walk over wrapping your arms around him from behind squeezing him. 

The smell of tea fills your nose and makes you thirsty. 

“Cuppa? Or bed?” Kyle asks, walking over, placing his hand on the small of your back. You hum looking round the kitchen.

“Where’s Johnny and Simon?” You ask. 

“Sleeping, they’re not used to staying up as late as you are.” John chuckles. You smile looking up at Kyle.

“Bed.” You say. He smiles back at you kissing the top of your head. 

“C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.” Kyle says pulling on your waist turning you to the stairs. John hears you giggling as you stumble up the steps to the first floor. A few seconds later the back door slowly opens, Johnny and Simon slipping in. John raises an eyebrow, quickly checking behind him to make sure you’re definitely gone. 

“You better hurry up, I’m pretty sure she’s looking to climb into your bed tonight.” John says as Simon and Johnny look at eachother. Johnny's smiles, taking his coat off and leaving his radio on the kitchen island. 

“Get some rest cap, you look exhausted.” Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder as he passes him. John sighs looking up at Simon. 

“Another successful night.” John says as Simon puts his radio down. 

“Always.” Simon smiles.

_______

👏zero👏self👏control👏

[sunarc]

Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 

“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 

You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.

“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.

Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 

“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”

He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 

His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 

“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?

“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 

“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”

His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 

“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper

“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 

“There she is” he chuckles. 

You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 

“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.

Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 

“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”

He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 

“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 

You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 

“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 

You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 

“It’s too much” you slur.

“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”

Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.

[femmeroll]

okay i fear i enjoyed writing about older!sevika too much so here’s more i guess!

sevika x fem reader

cw: fluff and a tiny bit of smut, age gap, modern setting, sexting, sevika is old bless her heart

older!sevika is so bad at technology it’s insane. she’s gen x, okay! she didn’t grow up with it like you did! it takes her forever to figure out apple carplay in her truck. once she does she plays the playlist you made her every time she drives.

she has no profile picture on spotify and her username is ‘Sevika123456’. you’re her only follower.

older!sevika gets so awkward when you take pictures of her. she’ll turn her head away or cover her face whenever you get your phone out.

“baby, no pictures please. i don’t wanna be on your snapchats or whatever.”

“it’s just for my camera roll, sev, relax. smile for me, handsome. so cute!”

older!sevika has a framed picture of you two in her office at work. (thank you to my friend who said modern sev would be a psychologist bc im obsessed)

one of her clients asks about ‘the girl in the picture’ after a session. she goes twenty minutes overtime gushing about you to her client who literally doesn’t care at all.

older!sevika still has cable and refuses to get rid of it. CNN is the default channel of her tv. she doesn’t understand paying for a million streaming services even though she pays for like…so many channels that she doesn’t even watch.

���look, sweetie. i recorded all the episodes of your favorite show for you. can netflix do that?”

“yes, sevika. netflix absolutely does that.”

older!sevika doesn’t understand any of your niche internet references. if you’re hopelessly chronically online like me, you are constantly quoting the most random shit.

she tried on a suit for some event for you once. you looked at her and said “who is the diva?” and poor sevi was so confused :( she has no idea what all that means.

older!sevika has a piece of masking tape over her laptop camera because she’s convinced that the government is watching her.

when she gets an add for something online that she was talking about the day before, she’ll immediately tell you that the government heard her.

older!sevika freaks out when you start sexting her randomly. she’s hella confused at first but sorta gets it after a while.

‘i’m touching myself thinking about u sev :/ i miss ur body so much’

‘Wow! 🔥🤤 I will be home soon.’

‘were the emojis really necessary’

in conclusion older!sevika has my fuckin heart🤍 i’m so in love with her it’s insane

[bluzebub19]

I have a request for how the Arcane characters (Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Heimerdinger, Ekko) look so that the reader can access their cuteness. Maybe they are doing or saying something to the reader and the reader suddenly starts hugging and petting them, calling them cute. How would they react to this?

Note: So... I'm the only one who thinks Heimerdinger is really cute. Why aren't there fanfics with him? Mysteries of life..

Arcane characters being called cute by their s/o while they're working

Writer's note: Thanks for requesting! It took longer than I expected because I kept deleting some of the dialogue from how cheesy and cringe it sounded lmao. Heimerdinger is not on my list of characters I write for, but I figured I'll write him this one time. I hope you don't mind that I also added Mylo, cuz why not?

Request/s: Open!

Warning/s: Get a dentist. This is some tooth-rotting fluff. Not proofread and english isn't my native language.

Character/s: Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Mylo

● Viktor tends to get lost in his work, mumbling equations or sketching out blueprints for his projects. You find this incredibly endearing, but not when he gets so absorbed that he forgets to eat or sleep.

● If you suddenly hug him or call him cute, he’ll freeze in shock at first. He blinks up at you as if you just said something in a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his cheeks will flush a light pink, and he’ll chuckles softly. “Cute is... not a term I hear often. But thank you."

● Over time, he grows more comfortable and secretly enjoys the affection. He may even lean into it, but he’ll never outright admit it. Instead, he might deflect with a shy smile and, “You should focus on more important matters."

● Yeah no, that's a sign for you to keep doing it.

● Jayce is the golden boy—confident, charming, and ridiculously handsome. He likes to appear professional and put-together, but you know him well enough to see through that exterior to the dorky, hardworking man beneath.

● When you hug him out of nowhere while he cooks and call him cute, he blinks for a second but chuckles as he turns to look at you. “Cute? Babe, I’m going for ruggedly handsome and sweet here. But I'll take it."

● Still, he's flattered and loves the affection you give him. And unlike Viktor, he's not afraid or shy to show you he wants more of it. He might pull you closer and say, "You're one to talk." He's a romantic and albeit cheesy guy.

● Now, you probably might be thinking about why and how is he cooking, but that's for another headcanon! (I just realized how I'm not even sure whose side am I on. Can he cook?? Cuz I feel like he can. But I also see him burning food-)

● Jinx, as we all know, is pure chaos, always working on something explosive or messing around. She has a habit of humming and singing off-key to herself while she works, which makes you think she’s oddly cute in her own... quirky way. To be honest, it’s hard not to find her enthusiasm contagious, even if it’s a little dangerous.

● One day, you catch her doing exactly that while painting her trademark designs on one of her grenades. The sight just makes you smile as you walk up and wrap your arms around her, telling her, “You’re so cute when you’re focused like this,” or something of the sort.

● She’ll throw her hands up and turn to look at you, trying to play off your compliment as a joke. “Woah, you might be crazier than me!" She grins and laughs softly, before making her voice sound more gruff, "Ya buttering up the author nightmares with your mooshy stuff!”

● But after her initial over-the-top reaction, she’ll soften. “Fine, soak it all in.” She shrugs and continues working. But deep down, she really loves the affection and she's getting more and more attached to you. You're giving her the kind of love that she thinks she never deserved in her life, so she really appreciates these little things you do. She might even snuggle up to you later, claiming it’s to “soak in all this ‘cute’ energy.”

● Oh, by the way, she'll make this happen a lot more often. By how, you ask? Well, by doing the same thing to you, of course! It becomes a little challenge betweem the two of you who calls the other one cute first and catching them off guard with it.

● Vi is all tough love and sass, but there’s a soft side she shows only to the people she really cares about. You notice this when she’s being protective or just in those peaceful moments when you're both alone together.

● If you call her cute, she’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Cute? Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

● Later, she’ll definitely tease you about it, saying something like, “So, how’s it feel dating the cutest person in Zaun?” or "Am I still cute?" with a playful grin. She'll be teasing you and making you smile with that while she's half naked and flexing her biceps (she knows you love them), or when she just got done with a fight and is still holding her gauntlets.

● She loves it, don't let that teasing fool you.

● Heimerdinger is an adorable bundle of wisdom and fluff. You often catch him rambling about science with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile. Look at him! He's just adorable!

● One day, as he’s showing you a tiny contraption he just finished, you can’t help but reach out and pet his fluffy head, saying, “You’re the most cutest genius ever.”

● Heimerdinger chuckles, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Ah, well, I suppose I do have a certain charm about me, don’t I?”

● He pretends to be unaffected, but you notice the way his tail swishes slightly when you hug him. “I must say, your affection is quite... energizing! Perhaps I should study its effects further.”

● From then on, he might start subtly seeking out your affection—like casually leaning into your hand when you pet him or “accidentally” bumping into you while working.

● Ekko is talking to you about his plans for the Firelights while sketching upgrades for their hoverboards.

● You were quietly admiring him, the way his eyes light up and the focused furrow of his brows, when you suddenly blurt out, “You’re so cute when you’re focused.”

● He freezes for a second, then looks at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Cute? Me?” He grins, a soft laugh escaping. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself there?”

● He rubs the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile gives him away.

● “You’re not getting away with saying that,” he teases, leaning in to nudge you lightly with his shoulder. He goes back to doing his work before playfully adding, “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just start believing it.”

● It's these little things that matters. These moments, even if simple, it gives him hope and motivation to make the world a better place. The way his eyes soften when you look at him in that moment, and how he lets his guard down just enough to show you he cares — it’s clear that, while he teases, he loves the attention, and he loves you even more for it.

● Dude's got lines fr fr

● Mylo has always been the type of guy who had a sarcastic, sassy remark ready. We all know that from how he treated Powder.

● When you suddenly hug him and call him cute, he freezes for a second, unsure of how to react. “Cute? Me?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool, but it's very obvious he's a bit flustered by it. “Out of all the compliments you could’ve picked, you went with cute? I’m more like... cool, and handsome.” He throws a dramatic, exaggerated pose, trying to hide his nervousness.

● Despite his teasing, there's a small, pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tries to act nonchalant, but the way he keeps glancing at you shows how much he’s secretly enjoying it.

● “Seriously, though. I’m cool, alright?” he continues, trying to regain his confidence. “I don’t do cute. But, uh... thanks. I guess.” He says softly as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

● Later on, when no one’s watching, you might catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face, clearly still flattered.

Can you guys guess which is my favorite based on how long their headcanons are

[lamiadrowned]

making out with jinx + fem reader (arcane) PLEASEEEEE 🙏🙏🙏

*:･ﾟ✧ a burning desire for you

jinx x fem!reader | nsfw

lol i think about this so often this is just total self indulgence

the way her lips clash with yours in such frenzied symmetry, a gentle ebb and flow in a fight for dominance, always leaves you weak in the knees. your head spins and you’re sure she can feel your heart hammering against your chest, beating like a war drum that just gets faster and heavier with every moment that passes that you’re still positioned on top of her– your throne of lapis blue, emitting chaos in its purest, most amorous form. it’s both a blessing and a curse, the fact that she always expresses her love so passionately, like she’ll never get the chance to express it again.

it’s certainly a curse when you have work in ten minutes and she’s halfway through taking off your shirt.

in jinx’s case, it’s all or nothing, all the time. in your case, you can’t call out of work last minute on the busiest day of the week.

you quickly grab her wrists and bring her hands back down, urging her to let go of your shirt, but she just tugs on the fabric harder. she pulls away with a whine, and you decide to cut her off before she begins to overthink your rejection. “i should’ve left for work five minutes ago.” you mumble, bringing your hand up to stroke one of her rosy cheeks.

“but you didn’t.” she counters as she presses her forehead to yours. “guessing it’s ‘cause you know i can make it quick, huh?”

clearly frustrated by your self control (and her own lack of it), jinx runs one of her hands up your back beneath your shirt, delicately tracing your spine with her nimble fingers. you let out a quiet sigh, feeling yourself slowly give in to her despite your own volition. your grip on her shoulder tightens as her hand slides down your back and slowly dips below the hem of your pants. you arch into her calculated touch, becoming all too aware of the heat growing in your stomach.

you open your mouth to retaliate, but she cuts you off by using her newly found grip on your ass to make you grind forward onto her thigh.

“i know you want it,” she says, like a serpent tempting you to bite the apple despite the compromising circumstance. after all, she can feel the heat between your legs on her thigh as she drags you against it, over and over, pleased by how willing you are to follow her movements. it seems like that self control is withering away bit by bit.

you lean forward to slot your lips between hers again, whimpering when her tongue immediately pushes past and finds yours. her free hand comes up to gently grab your throat– she applies no pressure, simply keeping you in place so that she can have her way with you.

it’s picturesque, she thinks; how helpless and complacent you become to her when she makes you feel this way, and how beautiful you look all the while. it takes all of her strength to not pull away from the kiss just to sit back and watch you take the pleasure she offers.

your hips become caught in an endless cycle with a mind of their own, and you struggle to reciprocate the kiss that has you whimpering and moaning into her mouth like a dog in heat. she only finds it enticing (and slightly humorous) how quickly you give up the struggle for control.

finally, she does pull away, now grabbing the hair on the back of your head and tugging it back so that she can press her lips to your exposed neck. you gasp, back arching as if it were a crescent moon, slightly frustrated that you’d let her discover all of your weaknesses. how could you not know she’d use them for such evil?

“jinx,” you huff, grabbing onto her shoulders as if you were trying to push her away, “you’re gonna make me late for work.”

“that’s kinda the goal here, genius.” she grumbles against your warm skin. at the moment, she can’t exactly fathom the thought of you leaving her when she’s already so worked up, and she knows you are, too.

you roll your eyes, halting the desperate movement of your hips no matter how much it pained you to do so. her hands, panic-stricken, rush to grab your waist and she finally looks up at you. “you’re evil, you know that?” you say, audibly out of breath.

the dim light of the blue lamp in her room reflects off of your skin, making you appear vibrant, as if you’re glowing from the inside like a goddess above her. jinx would look at you forever if she could; but for now, she has a point to prove.

she flashes the most sinister grin you’ve seen from her in a while. “hey, i am not evil. i just know how to get what i want.”

“hmm… think you can get yourself some patience, while you’re at it?” you tease.

at first, she laughs– until she realizes what you mean by that. you are leaving her. she stares up at you, smile completely fading as her jaw drops. “huh?”

you lean forward to press a chaste kiss to her cheek before crambling off of her lap and trying to balance on your shaky legs.

“come on! this is… it’s like taking candy from a baby!” she whines.

“well, it’s a valuable lesson that the baby in question needs to learn at some point.” you shrug, smoothing out your wrinkled shirt with your hands and readjusting your pants to look a bit less like they’ve been tampered with.

jinx stands up and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her nose in the crook of your neck with a long inhale. you feel undeniably guilty, leaving her by herself when she’s already comfortable in one of her clingy moods, but you’d feel worse leaving thieram to run an a bar loaded with people all by himself tonight.

so, you embrace her tightly, kissing the frizzed sapphire blue hair on the side of her head as you scratch her back in attempt to provide some much-needed comfort. “i’m sorry, angel. it’s only five hours, okay?” you reassure her despite her petulant scoff. “i’ll bring you home some of those fries you like.“

she pauses for a moment. “the ones with the cheese on ‘em?”

“yeah, those ones. a whole basket.” you promise.

finally, she sighs halfheartedly and bring herself away from your neck to meet your watchful gaze. her puppy-dog eyes cause your heart to flutter, though you aren’t sure if they’re genuine of if they’re just a last ditch effort to convince you to stay. “fine. but i swear, if that brunette chucklefuck tries to make you stay any longer than five hours tonight, i’ll be wearing his teeth as a pearl necklace by tomorrow morning. got it?”

you huff out a laugh at her odd threat, yet it comes as no surprise. she often engages in the most one-sidedly explosive quarrels with thieram, convinced that if you stay back a bit longer to help him clean up or close the last drop for the night, it’s part of his big scheme to steal as much time with you as possible– to steal you away from her.

you make a mental note to do your portion of the closing work before you both close the bar for the night. “crystal clear. as for you,” you lift your hand to cup her cheek, reveling at the way she melts into your touch, “i better see you waiting here for me when i come back, alright?”

jinx’s eyes flutter closed as your thumb rubs the soft skin beneath her eye. you always know just how to soothe her, how to make her forget all of the irritation boiling inside of her. she just nods her head, arms tightening around your waist.

you pull her in for one last kiss, and the only thing it’s good for is reigniting that dwindling spark inside of her. her tongue quickly licks into your mouth and you sigh through your nose– a mix of exasperation and pure indulgence. she fists the back of your shirt in her hands, still aggravated at the idea of letting you go, and lightly bites down onto your bottom lip.

you scoff and practically rip yourself away from jinx. “hey, you started it!” she accusatively points a finger at you.

“yeah, that one’s on me, huh?” you say, reaching up to gently pinch her cheek, stifling a laugh at how infuriated she looks. it’s a common anger that runs deep in her veins, though it’s more so directed toward the world than it is toward you; solely due to the fact that she can’t have you alone, all to herself whenever she pleases, because you’re a person with responsibilities just like her and everybody else.

but, she’d made a vow to herself at the start of this relationship that she wasn’t going to be as controlling over you as she knew she could be. she wasn’t going to drive you away all for the sake of keeping you in her possession at all times. so, rather than arguing any further, jinx nods in such hesitant acceptance of your departure. “five hours.” she reminds you, crossing her arms as she spins around to head over to her workbench. at least she has something to keep herself busy while she waits.

after all, you haven’t even left yet and she’s already counting down the minutes until you’re home; until she can pick up where you left off.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[wxwrites]

Arcane SFW & NSFW Headcanons! (f!reader, AFAB!reader)

Including: Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Mel, Jinx. (Disclaimer: I will only write SFW for Jinx, as her age is not fully confirmed.) This is so much longer than I meant for it to be. Enjoy!

WC: ~3k

JINX | SFW

 Jinx, who still doesn’t really know how to navigate relationships… at all. She’s shy and hesitant at first, entirely unused to the genuine connection and love. All she’s ever known is what feels like transactional affection, despite what Silco may have actually felt towards her. 

 She isn’t too comfortable with physical affection at first, a little wary that you’re out to hurt her. But, she’ll show her appreciation for you through handing you gadgets or trinkets she makes/finds. 

 As she grows more comfortable with you, she’ll finally start to open up and lean on you (literally and figuratively.) She’ll start to ramble about anything and everything on her mind, almost unaware that she’s actually doing it. 

 She’ll paint your nails to match hers, even including the same little face she put on her prosthetic. 

 She LOVES to braid your hair, and will take every opportunity to do so. Despite her hands being a little calloused from her tinkering, they’re still surprisingly soft and gentle as she rakes them through your hair.

 She is a genuine sweetheart! While she might come off really intense or a little wacky sometimes, her love for you bleeds through entirely. It’s obvious to almost everyone how much she loves you.

 She loves watching you play with Isha or talk to Sevika, tearing up as she watches her own happy little family form after so much tragedy.

 She hugs tightly, and I mean TIGHTLY. She’ll squeeze you to the point of almost feeling like your ribs are gonna crack.

VI | SFW 

 Vi, who is such a sweetheart. She wears her heart on her sleeve every second of every day. Prison may have hardened her when it comes to confrontation or battle, but she is like a puppy with you. 

 If she continues working for Caitlyn, she spends her money well. She gets both of you a nice apartment and takes you out on sweet little dates at least once a week.

 If she relies more on the bets and money from her pit-fighting, she’ll still do the same. While the apartment isn’t nearly as lavish, and the dates aren’t nearly as nice, she does everything in her power to make her as enjoyable as possible. 

 She prefers when you keep your hand wrapped around her bicep, rather than actually holding hands. 

 She lets you paint her nails and do her makeup as you please, enjoying the lovely grin the spreads across your face as you do it. 

 Absurdly gentle with you, always keeping a soft hand on your waist. Despite how rough she is with other people, her hands would never do the same to you. (Unless you ask for it ;)) 

 When you patch her up after a particularly rough fight, she’ll mutter a quiet “Thank y’baby.” And press herself closer to you, craving your space and comfort. 

 She is a little difficult to get to communicate properly, almost never having been listened to before. With enough patience and kind words, she’ll eventually crack and begin to trust you as she becomes more vulnerable.

 She lovesss to bury her face into the crook of your neck as she tightly wraps her bandaged arms around your waist, pressing a few gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

 She’ll tear up a little bit as you press gentle kisses to her tattoos, and especially the scars she adorns from her time in prison. 

 Not to mention that she is definitely obsessed with you.

NSFW

This might be a hot take, but I definitely see Vi as more submissive than dominant. Whether she’s fighting crime or other people, she definitely spends most of her day keeping everyone in check.

 So when she’s writhing against the bed and moaning for you to just touch her, you find it extremely difficult to not give her exactly that. She loves when you’re able to take her out of her head entirely, finally giving her the space to relax and to just not think for a bit.

 While she might be submissive, she still definitely likes to top. She likes knowing that she’s making you feel good and thrives off of the praise. So when you mutter a quiet “That’s my good girl.” She has to temporarily stop and get her shit together so she doesn’t cum on the spot. 

 She goes feral whenever you pull her hair or scratch down her back and arms, letting out a literal whimper. 

 As you straddle her lap and begin to ride her into oblivion, she’ll paw desperately at your hips and thighs. She’ll eventually reach up to grope your tits and mumble incoherent compliments, talking about how pretty you are and how good you feel. She especially likes it when you tighten your hand around her throat, hearing her own choked whimpers leave her mouth. 

 On the uncommon occasion she decides that she does want to be dominant, she’s still not very rough. Unless you explicitly ask for a meaner hand or words, she would never do it on her own. 

 Her favorite position is definitely doggy, she likes watching your ass bounce back against her hips as she smacks it and grips your hips tightly. She’ll keep one hand in between your shoulder blades, and the other next to your head as she drills into you. 

 She’ll pepper sweet kisses along your cheeks and lick the tears off, almost ecstatic at the fact that she has fucked you so good you started crying. 

 She loves sloppy kisses and sloppy head, moaning against your pussy as she nearly devours you whole, digging her hands into your thighs. She whines as you tangle your fingers into her hair and tug, feeling her own arousal begin to leak in between her thighs. 

 She is so good with aftercare, too. If she had been a little rough on you, she’ll kiss all of the bruises and scratches that she left and mutter quiet praises. She’ll wipe you down with a damp towel, giving you a quiet “‘M sorry, baby.” As she soothes the towel over your sensitive clit.

CAITLYN | SFW

Caitlyn, who takes after Cassandra in the way that she is a little stern with you. She doesn’t like it when you venture off without her, or at the very least someone else.

 She’s a little socially awkward, so you tend to take the lead at the galas or other social events she’s expected to attend. She likes when you keep an arm around her waist, or holding your hand. While most people are there to see her, you often lead the conversations anyway. 

 She loves when you show up to her office, your presence immediately forcing her posture and face to soften. Being in her position puts a lot of paperwork in front of her, and stress on her. 

 Whether you dance, play a sport, or perform in any other way, she will show up every single time. She’s running behind on a mission? She’ll finish it in record time so she’s able to make it for at least half of your show. 

 She’ll let you sit on the edge of her desk as she works, or will pull up another chair so you can sit next to her and read your own book or tinker with a little project. 

 She loves when you have to raise up on your toes to kiss her, chuckling as she pulls away each time you get close enough to brush your lips together. She’ll wrap her arms around your waist and pick you up off of your feet as she presses her lips to yours. 

 Once you guys are able to wind down in your shared apartment, she pulls you into her lap and holds you tightly. She’ll press gentle kisses onto your cheek and shoulders, telling you how grateful she is for you and how much she loves you.

 She will always appreciate when you make tea or cook for her, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around you from behind. 

 She’ll take you out on little dates when she has the time, but otherwise prefers to take slow walks with you through her garden.

While she may be a little stern, she absolutely adores you, and trusts you with her life. 

NSFW

 Don’t get me wrong, she is so, so sweet. She’s doting and attentive, and will do almost anything you need from her. But you will work for it, no questions asked. 

 She’ll put you on your knees and make you beg for whatever you want. She’ll bind your hands behind your back with a new silken rope she bought and coo down at you, stroking her thumb over your bottom lip. She’ll coax your mouth open and feed you two of her fingers, grinning as you accept them sweetly.

 It’s quite obvious she can get prettyyyy freaky. Like we saw how she reacted when Vi spat on her cheek. I’d say that extends towards you, as well. She likes forcing you to keep your mouth open, and tongue flat against your bottom lip as she spits onto it, giving you a “Swallow it sweetheart, be a good girl.”

 I wouldn’t say that she’s a stone top, but she definitely prefers to give. I definitely think it comes from wanting to be in control and dominant. She differs from Vi in the sense that she doesn’t want to be out of control, ever. 

 Her long legs and overall strength gives her such a huge advantage over you. She loves to fold you over and press your knees to your chest as she fucks into you roughly. She does love to keep you on top, guiding your hips as you bounce on her strap, licking and sucking into the sensitive skin of your collarbones and boobs. 

 I don’t think she’d be someone who is super into degradation, but she might mutter something along the lines of “You’re such a pretty whore for me.” As she tangles her fingers into your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to meet your own reflection in the mirror. 

 Any time you guys fuck, she will always remind you of how good you are. She nips at your ear and purrs, “That’s it pretty girl, you take me so well.” She mumbles, sucking a mark onto the side of your neck. 

 She takes aftercare very seriously, knowing that sometimes her treatment can take a toll on you. She’ll untie you slowly and work out the kinks of your tense joints, pressing kisses along the red marks the ropes left. She wipes the sweaty baby hairs from your forehead and presses a gentle kiss to it, helping you sit up. She’ll hold you for a bit and reassure you, murmuring quiet praises. Once you’re settled down, she’ll run a warm bath for both of you.

MADDIE | SFW

 Maddie, who is such a sweet, sweet girl. Her enthusiasm for everything around her is extremely contagious. She does her absolute best to make sure there is a smile on your face every day.

 She finds a way to balance her job as an enforcer and her relationship with you. While it’s a bit of a struggle sometimes because of how demanding Caitlyn can be, she puts in 100% of her effort to make it work.

 She prefers to stay inside rather than going out, pulling you next to her on the couch as you cuddle up and turn on a few movies or a show to binge. She likes when you put your legs over your lap and she can idly trace her fingers along your legs.

 She likes cooking and baking a lot, always making an excessive amount of food that you guys really can’t consume by yourselves.

 She’ll give you pancakes with a smiley face made out of chocolate chips and strawberries, pressing a kiss to your head as you dig into the breakfast. 

  She writes you notes every morning before she leaves for work and sticks them on the fridge, always containing some kind of compliment and an “I love you.” 

 She loves to write poetry as well, it’s her favorite way to express her love and gratitude for you. Which means that words of affirmation is definitely her love language, but physical touch is a close second.

 She loves going on bike rides around the city, especially when you get to the large botanical gardens and parks. She’ll pull over and buy whatever drink you’d like and a pastry, both of you settling on a bench in the park.

 She likes to point out all of the cute animals that prance around the area and gets extremely excited when they come over to you guys.

NSFW

 She is utterly enthusiastic every time you guys get intimate. I wouldn’t say that she’s inexperienced, but I definitely think she does still get a little nervous sometimes. She’s just absolutely infatuated with you and your pretty face makes her blush.

 She lovesss to makeout. Like, she would rather do that over having actual sex. She’ll straddle your lap and hold your jaw or thread her fingers through your hair. 

 When you guys do fuck, it’s a bit more vanilla compared to the others. She doesn’t strike me as an overly kinky person, but I feel like she does still have a few interests.

 She for SURE likes to give head, it’s probably her favorite pastime tbh. She will beg for you to ride her face regularly, moaning into you as she wraps her hands around your hips.

 Give her a little bit of praise and she’ll do anything you ask of her, especially if you call her pretty. 

She loves, loves, loves to ride your thigh. Something about it is so exhilarating, especially because she likes seeing the aftermath of it. She’ll happily lap her cum off of your leg, moaning as you guide her head with your hand. 

 She seems like the type to basically worship you, she would happily get on her knees as you grind yourself against her mouth with absolutely no complaints. 

 For sure adores seeing you in pretty lingerie, running her fingers over the lacy fabric as she kisses along the hem of your bra and underwear. 

 She’s definitely a bottom, like for SURE. She really likes missionary, especially when you pull her legs over your shoulders. The main reason she likes it is because 1. She likes to be underneath you, and 2. Because she still loves to look at you and kiss you. 

 While she doesn’t really like to top, she can still get a little bit of an edge to her attitude, teasing you as she nips at your neck and jaw. She’ll straddle your hips and press your back into the bed, slowly sliding her nails underneath your shirt and chuckle at the whines you let out. 

 Aftercare with her is really sweet as well. She likes to curl up in your arms and tuck her head under your chin as you pet her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. She likes to eat after as well, it helps her feel less shaky, so make sure you always have snacks nearby. 

MEL | SFW

 Mel, who loves so hard and sometimes really can’t control it. Her love is so intense it can truly be a little overwhelming sometimes. 

 She treats you with the utmost care and always makes sure that your needs are met. While being on the council does unfortunately consume most of her time, she does everything she can to make sure she is still as present as possible. 

 When she’s gone, she makes sure that there’s always a maid present with you, making sure that all of your needs are met when she can’t be there.

 When she is, she always likes to have a hand on you, whether it’s on your thigh, waist, whatever. She loves to touch you, and it often soothes her racing mind.

 Whenever you get sick or stressed, she pulls your head into your lap and will stroke her slender fingers through your hair. She’ll hum some kind of melody quietly and gently sway, lolling you to sleep. 

 She doesn’t like it when you get involved with politics or the council in general, simply wanting to protect you from the ongoing and unresolved issues. 

 She buys you new dresses regularly, always making you give her a little fashion show as you try them on.

 Her kindness is unwavering, but there is a layer of intensity and harshness beneath all of that. One that is very rarely ever shown, and if it is, it’s towards her mother. 

 She does everything she can to keep you far away from her ties to Noxus, especially when Ambessa comes to visit. She’ll use every excuse in the books to keep you separated, knowing that you and Ambessa would likely not get along. 

 She loves to take long baths together, especially when they’re decorated with candles, bath bombs, etc. She’ll turn on the record player as you guys bask in the warm water together, soaking up the intimacy that is sometimes difficult to be had. 

NSFW

 She is the biggest switch that has ever been written in a TV show, like really. Her role is kind of inconsistent, and changes quite often. I don’t think she has a preference, but sometimes I think there are some things that can definitely influence it. Rough day at work and she’s irritated? You’re gonna get bent over her desk. If she feels utterly defeated, she’d rather you take the lead so she can ignore her problems for a bit. 

 Speaking of being bent over her desk, it’s one of her favorite things to do. She’ll gently push you forward, keeping a hand between your shoulder blades as she grinds against your ass. But she really only ever does this at her office at home, she tries very hard to keep your relationship away from work.

 She loves when you take off her shoes and tights, kissing your way up her legs as you hike her dress up to her hips. She loves to hold onto your head as you lick and suck your way up her thighs, pushing her backwards onto the bed. 

 She highly enjoys straddling your face, moaning loudly as she grabs onto the headboard. She’ll grind her pussy against your mouth and whimper as you reach up to grope her chest.

 When she’s topping, she likes having you in missionary so she can watch your eyes roll back and whimper. If she’s bottoming, she prefers to ride you because it makes it easier for her to rub against the most sensitive spots inside of her. 

 She likes to pull your hair, and have hers pulled in return, enjoying the control it gives both of you.

 She loves to decorate herself in pretty lingerie and gold, tying your hands behind your back as she sways her hips around you before settling your lap. She grinds herself on your lap, grinning sadistically as you whine due to the fact that you can’t touch her.

 She’s less intense with aftercare, mainly because she’s too tired herself to do much. Once you’re both wiped down, she’ll wrap herself around you and press a kiss to your head.

[chloe6994]

Arcane Headcanons: Mel, Jinx, Vi, and Caitlyn Bandaging a Hurt Reader

Mel Medarda

Calm and Composed: When Mel finds you hurt, her face remains calm, but her golden eyes flash with worry. She doesn’t panic; instead, she swiftly gathers supplies, taking charge with her usual elegance.

Gentle Touch: She kneels beside you, her hands steady as she carefully cleans your wounds. Her touch is feather-light, ensuring she doesn’t hurt you more than necessary.

Reassuring Words: Mel speaks softly, her voice soothing as she reassures you. “You’re stronger than this wound, my love. Just hold on for me.” Her words feel like a warm embrace, steadying you.

Attention to Detail: Every movement is precise. She ties bandages with neat, perfect knots, making sure nothing is left untreated.

Comfort Aftercare: Once she’s finished, she pulls you close, draping a luxurious blanket over you both as she strokes your hair. She pours you a glass of water or wine and sits with you until you fall asleep, her presence unwavering.

Jinx

Panicked and Guilt-Ridden: Seeing you hurt sends Jinx spiraling into panic at first. She stares at the blood on your skin, her hands trembling as flashes of her past haunt her. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to let this happen!”

Frantic But Determined: Despite her anxiety, she grabs her makeshift medical kit (which probably has questionable supplies like duct tape and loose bandages). Her hands shake as she starts cleaning your wounds, muttering to herself about how she’ll “fix you.”

Protective Rambling: Jinx talks a mile a minute while she works. “Next time, we’re strapping you in full armor! Or bubble wrap! Yeah, bubble wrap! You’re not leaving my side again!” It’s her way of coping and trying to distract you from the pain.

Messy But Effective: The bandaging process might be chaotic—she ties the bandages a little too tightly or uses too much tape—but it’s full of love and determination. She won’t stop until she’s sure you’re safe.

Endearing Snuggles: Afterward, Jinx collapses beside you, clinging to you like a lifeline. She refuses to leave your side, even if she’s still buzzing with nervous energy. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again, okay? Promise?”

Vi

Focused and Protective: When Vi sees you hurt, her heart skips a beat, but she immediately goes into action. “Alright, sit tight. I’ve got you.” She carries you to a safe spot if needed, her grip firm but careful.

Skilled Hands: Growing up in the Lanes, Vi knows how to handle injuries. She cleans your wounds quickly but thoroughly, her hands practiced and efficient. “This’ll sting a bit. Hang in there, babe.”

Fierce Reassurance: She keeps talking to you the entire time, her voice steady and grounding. “You’re tougher than this. Just a scratch, yeah? You’re gonna be fine.”

Soft Side Shows: Despite her tough exterior, Vi’s hands soften when she ties the bandages, making sure they’re secure but not uncomfortable. She presses a kiss to your forehead once she’s done.

Protective Vow: After you’re patched up, she keeps an arm around you, her jaw clenched with determination. “No one’s laying a finger on you again. I’ll make damn sure of it.”

Caitlyn

Efficient and Professional: Years of training in the Enforcers have made Caitlyn incredibly skilled at first aid. The moment she sees you hurt, she moves quickly, her expression calm but her eyes filled with concern. “Let me take care of this.”

Tender Care: Caitlyn’s movements are precise yet gentle as she cleans and dresses your wounds. She talks to you softly, her accent making her reassurances even more comforting. “You’re doing so well, darling. Almost there.”

Problem Solver: She keeps the atmosphere light, offering logical solutions to distract you. “After this, we’re investing in better protection for you. Perhaps a personal shield? Or maybe I’ll just keep you in the precinct with me.”

Personal Touch: Once she’s done, Caitlyn makes you tea and insists you rest. She’ll sit beside you, her hand resting on yours, ensuring you feel safe. “You don’t have to be brave alone, you know. I’m here.”

Steadfast Companion: She checks your bandages regularly and doesn’t leave your side until she’s certain you’re recovering. If she’s working, she’ll send you frequent messages to make sure you’re okay.

Each of them brings their unique personality to the task, showing their love for you in their own way.

[tittiesnhrtz]

i was having a really bad day and only ellie williams fluff could save me bahaja. this was written under fifteen mins so it’s not proofread. also this is pure fluff.

the lamp in the living room casts a glow on the silhouette of your wife sprawled on the couch, with its dim yellow light highlighting her pretty features and the book nestled on her lap. she pretends to be enamoured by the still words on the paper, though what she’s really enamoured by is the sight of you examining the basket of tangerines. your brows are furrowed in concentration as you stare at the circular fruits, probably trying to tell which one is the most succulent, you only want your wife to have the best one after all. she watches as you finally pick one out of the dainty basket, thinking about how she managed to get so lucky, her perfect wife who’s always there for her, anchoring her to the peacefulness of life. almost every thought that weaves itself into her mind is about you— while she’s at work, while she’s at home, even when she’s sleeping, her dreams are a figment of her moments with you. her calloused palms having learnt the texture of your skin, always seem to crave your warmth, unable to stay away from the expanse of your flesh. your stomach, your legs, your arms, your ass, she’ll take whatever you give her happily.

she makes space for you as you lay down beside her, your fingers peeling the outermost layer of the fruit, just like you’d peeled all the tough layers she put up, getting to the core of her heart, learning her soul inside out. you take a piece and bring it to her peach hued lips. she gladly welcomes it, the juices dripping down her chin. “so messy.” you chuckle and wipe the pulp away with your thumb. “‘s not my fault you weren’t holding it properly.” she places a lingering kiss to your nose bridge, letting the sticky liquid make a home on your nose. “ellie!” you exclaim, giggling and nudging her shoulder. she takes a few pieces of the tangerine from your hand and pulps their juices out onto your neck, only to lick them clean, the warm muscle of her tongue flicking across the pulse of your neck. “you’re so gross.” you put the rest of the fruit away from her grasp, letting them rest on the round oak table that serves as a coffee table in the depths of your house. “mhm, you love me anyway.” she smiles against your neck, slender fingers crawling under your cotton dress, tugging and sliding them off your body. your bra and underwear follow suit, joining the fabric on the ground. her hands trace every contour, every blemish and every flawless crest, worshipping your skin like its her salvation. “my pretty girl.” she murmurs, manoeuvring your body to fit inside the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing, her skin erupting at the feel of yours. her arms encircle your waist, spooning you, seeking closeness. her hand slides down, pressing against your pelvis, fingers playing tenderly with the hair that adorns your pussy, in a loving manner. “i love you.” a kiss to your earlobe. “so.” a kiss to your forehead. “so.” a kiss to your collarbone. “much.” a final and gentle kiss to your cheek. you smile at your lovesick wife, equally as hopeless as her. “i love you too. so, so much.” you repeat her euphoric words, longing to hear the three most unoriginal words again and again. she reads your mind, knowing you and your heart’s way better than yourself, and repeats the words like a lullaby, creating a symphony in the humdrum of the living room. all that matters to her is your soft breathing, the book being long forgotten, bridged somewhere between your bodies. as she whispers the words that have became your private altar, her throat grows dry until slumber takes over her body, her eyes fluttering shut as her cheek presses against yours, relishing in the solace of your love.

[sailorholly]

Appetizer

Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist Here

“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.

The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.

You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.

When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.

Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.

“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.

Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.

You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.

The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.

The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.

You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.

Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.

Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.

The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.

Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”

“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.

After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.

Tags

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3

[dirtyvulture]

No Glory

Beefy!MMA Fighter!Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Stripper!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 3570

Summary: Your club gets a visit from rising boxer Natasha “Black Widow” Romanoff.

*Nat has a 🍆 and is a virgin

AN: Been working on this one for a while... 😉

Sometimes Natasha wonders why she chose this path in life. The chain-link fence of the octagon cage rattles from the spectators’ excitement, reminding her that she’s only here for their entertainment. The eyeballs and cameras drink in the violence and bloodshed like an elixir, the crowd cheering for more. They didn’t pay all that money for a ten-second fight that ends with a single punch to the temple and a body lying still on the mat. They want to see the full three rounds, pushed to the last second, where the fighters can hardly stand straight and blood soaks through the mats.

She circles the pen warily, shifting her weight back to her left leg because her right thigh has swollen to a near-bursting point after taking a rapid succession of roundhouse kicks that probably could’ve fell a house support beam. Blood drips into her left eye and she hopes her eyebrow is at least still attached to her face. She lifts her hands to protect what’s left, her forearms and biceps aching, but she knows if she doesn’t end things soon, she’ll be the one laid out while the audience celebrates.

Her opponent, a pixie-cut blonde with a few inches over her, bounces on the mats with a seemingly endless supply of energy. The only visible damage Natasha’s left on her is a fattened bottom lip. Natasha is annoyed, wishing she had done a better job wearing her opponent out so the end wouldn’t be so difficult. 

She shuffles forward a few steps as much as her injured leg will allow, causing her opponent to bounce back in response. She fruitlessly throws a few punches, which her opponent blocks effortlessly. Her opponent might have the capacity to play around with her the rest of the evening, but Natasha doesn’t have the time. 

She moves backwards now, practically inviting her opponent in for a free hit. When Natasha sees the light of realization in her opponent’s eye, she knows it’s over. She momentarily shifts her weight to her right leg, a spike of adrenaline masking the pain long enough for her to spin on her heel, lifting her left leg as high as she can manage. Her left heel connects with her opponent’s jaw with a satisfying crack.

“KNOCKOUT!” the announcer roars. “Danvers is down!”

Natasha wobbles on both legs as the referee jumps in between her and Danvers, lying frozen stiff on the mats with one arm still raised. She is momentarily jealous of Danvers’s unconsciousness, wishing she could lay down too, but when she sees the look of shock in Danvers’s eyes as she comes to, she isn’t jealous anymore.

“Your winner…Natasha ‘Black Widow’ Romanoff!”

She turns to face the audience, raising a fist and hearing their screams and cheers grow louder. But the win feels empty to her. There was not much at stake at an amateur fight and her reward would be even less after her manager/coach/adoptive father took his cut. Training would be even worse with her new injuries and she already had another fight scheduled in less than a week. As she squints through the bright lights shining down on the octagon, she looks out at the audience, knowing she won’t find you there but wishing she would.

***********************************************************************

“Hey, turn that up,” you say, catching a glimpse of the TV in the mirror.

“Why?” Wanda asks, smearing red lipstick around her mouth. “You’re not into MMA.”

“No, but that one client of hers is,” Jane chimes in and you feel her cheeks heat up. 

“Which one?”

“You know, that buff redhead.”

“Ohhhh.”

You tune them out to focus on the fight. You didn’t really consider Natasha Romanoff a client of yours because she never seemed to want to get actually near you–you could always feel her eyes on you from afar, but every time you approached she suddenly turned icy cold, murmuring excuses and turning down your offer to take her to one of the back rooms for a private show. She was an enigma and a little rude too, but you found yourself hopelessly drawn to her. 

You watch as Natasha limps forward, before spinning around and kicking Danvers in the face. 

“KNOCKOUT! Danvers is down!”

You try to hide your smile. You knew she could do it. She might not have had the greatest track record, but she was still just starting. Maybe she’d come visit you tonight as a way to reward herself, and maybe you’d finally get a real chance to be with her. You turn back to your mirror, reaching for the mascara. You always wanted to make sure you looked the best when she came in.

***********************************************************************

Natasha watches unblinkingly as the nurse presses the enormous ice pack to her bruised thigh, holding it in place with a plastic wrap she’s sure she’s used in the kitchen before. Her ankle is elevated on a chair and she’s only in her underwear now so she caught a full glimpse of the damage Danvers caused before the ice pack hid away most of it. 

She winces when a second nurse pinches the skin above her left eyebrow and presses on a pair of butterfly stitches. 

“How did you win but Danvers walked away better than you?” the first nurse says to no one in particular. Natasha doesn’t answer. 

“I bet the gamblers were not happy with that upset tonight,” the second nurse responds. 

“My daughter knows how to give a show,” a deep Russian voice slurs from behind them. Natasha doesn’t move to acknowledge her father lumber into the locker room. “Very good today, Natasha. Very, very good.” A heavy hand slams painfully on her shoulder and she jolts. “You almost had me fooled, too.” He shakes her and Natasha holds onto the sides of the flimsy metal chair she’s propped in so as not to fall to the floor. “But I trained you well. I know I did.”

“Yes, Dad,” Natasha mumbles, trying to shake his hand off her shoulder. She just wants to be away from everyone now. She hardly cares that it’s her first win in weeks. These were the last people she wanted to be celebrating with.

“Alexei!” The manager walks in next. He’s shorter and smaller than Natasha’s father and Natasha only knows his name as Dreykov. He wears thick-rimmed glasses and has his thin gray hair perpetually slicked back. “I’ve got a good payday for you.”

“For once!” Alexei cheers, walking over to Dreykov. The men share an awkward but enthusiastic handshake, before Dreykov reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Natasha swears she can see the dollar signs in her father’s eyes as Dreykov begins peeling and counting bills.

“We’ll be celebrating tonight,” Alexei says as he proudly accepts the money. Almost like it’s an afterthought, he turns towards Natasha and offers her a single, hundred-dollar bill. “Here you go, honey. Treat yourself tonight. Go to that club that you like, but don’t bring any of the girls home.” He and Dreykov laugh. Natasha snatches the bill out of his hand. She knows she’s owed more for her share, but she’s too tired to complain. She hates the situation she’s gotten herself into, but knows there’s no escaping it now.

***********************************************************************

Your eyes scan the club, your vision so well-adjusted to the dim lighting and red LEDs that you can still see faces perfectly well. Either she’s not here yet, or she’s playing her usual game and hiding in the corner with a beer.

Wanda bumps your hip with hers and you remember to keep moving down the catwalk, continuing your performance for the rowdy men cheering by the edge of the stage. But you’re not interested in a single one of them tonight. You’re waiting for the redhead to appear, because this time, you aren’t just going to ogle from afar. 

Natasha carefully lifts herself into a stool at the corner of the bar. The ache in her leg is softened a little by the painkillers her father forced her to take before she left the gym, so she orders a Coke instead of her usual beer. She takes a sip, letting the sugar dissolve in her mouth, and rubs her eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion hit her harder than Danvers had. Maybe she should’ve just gone back to her apartment and slept instead of coming here.

“Hi there.”

Natasha nearly jumps out of her seat. You’re suddenly standing next to her, and you look even more beautiful up close. 

“Um, uh…” Natasha splutters, trying not to spill the Coke on herself and setting it back on its coaster. “Hi.”

“I saw your fight earlier. The girls all pitched in for the pay-per-view,” you say.

“Oh.” Natasha feels her cheeks heat up as red as the mood lighting in the club. “That was nice of them.”

“I knew you’d come here to celebrate your win. Congratulations.”

“It was a lucky kick,” Natasha deflects, feeling infinitely embarrassed by your praise.

“No, you won fair and square,” you insist.

“Thanks,” she finally concedes.

“Not even a beer tonight?” you ask, gesturing to her glass of bubbling Coke.

Natasha shakes her head. “I didn’t want to mix alcohol with painkillers.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” Natasha hears pity in your voice and her stomach twists. She wishes she could appear stronger and cooler. She’s worried that she’s not living up to your expectations as an MMA fighter, even though she had just won a fight (a first in weeks).

“Can I get you something to drink?” she squeaks, desperate to distract herself from the self-loathing.

You wave her offer away. “I was thinking maybe we could go back to one of the private rooms tonight. If you want to, that is.”

“Me? With you?” Natasha blushes as red as her hair. “I…um…” she splutters. “Sorry, I don’t think I have enough money for that right now.”

“My treat,” you say, putting your hand on her forearm, which tenses up considerably under the leather jacket she’s stretching out.

“Oh, that’s um…very nice of you for offering,” she stammers, pulling her arm away. “But you don’t have to. I don’t want to take your time away from paying customers,” she stalls. 

“I want you,” you emphasize, and it makes Natasha’s stomach do somersaults. She’s dreamed of this moment for months, but resigned herself to the fact that she would never have the confidence to ask you this herself. You probably deserved someone much better than her, not a loser who allowed herself to get beat up for a living. 

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks, giving you one final chance to walk away. She didn’t want you to do anything you might later regret.

“Yes,” you assure, and there’s no way someone as dense as Natasha can mistake the passion in your voice for anything less. Natasha finally takes your hand and she hopes you won’t mind the callouses roughening up her palm. She looks around, as if she’s embarrassed someone will catch her with you. But no one is paying attention with the dancers on the stage, where Natasha would normally watch you from afar.

You take her past the bathrooms, through a door she had never noticed before, to an empty hallway marked with more doors. Buzzed on excitement and nerves, Natasha hardly notices the ache in her leg anymore. 

“This one,” you point out the third one on the left and usher her in. 

Natasha isn’t quite sure what she expected, but it almost reminds her of a hotel room. However, she notices there’s no lock on the inside of the door. 

“Um…” Natasha stands there awkwardly behind you as you close the door. “I need you to know something,” she blurts out.

“Yes?”

“I’m a…um, I mean…” She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to admit, she would rather fight Danvers again with both hands tied behind her back. “I’ve never done…this before,” she says lamely, her face reddening in shame.

“Oh.” Natasha deflates when she hears your reaction. “Well, that’s okay,” you add quickly and she stares at you while holding her breath. “I’d love to be your…first.”

“Really?” She doesn’t want you to see her like a chore you have to get done so you can move along your day. “I’m sorry I never approached you first and just watched you from the bar like a creep. I just thought you were so beautiful that you’d never want to give someone like me a chance–”

You lean forward and press your fingers to her lips. Her eyes widen at your touch but she finally picks up the courage to gently lift her hands to your hips, beckoning you to close the distance between the two of you. 

“Are you sure?” Natasha whispers one last time, her breath warm on your cheeks. You nod as she quickly presses her lips to yours, still carrying an air of nervousness. “Should we…the bed?” she suggests, cringing at how crass it sounds.

You hide a chuckle and allow her to lead you to the queen-sized bed, where she sits on the edge first, parting her legs so you can stand between them. You lean down and kiss her again, this time with more passion, and she cups your cheek with her rough palm. She feels the sudden tightening in her pants and shifts her leg to adjust herself.

“It’s your leg okay?” you ask.

“Um, it’s not my leg…”

“Maybe I can help?” you propose, turning your focus first to her belt and then her zipper.  Natasha tries to help you but you push her hands away; instead, she lifts herself off the bed so that you can pull down her pants and boxers. She moans when your hand closes around her shaft and starts tugging at her gently. 

“Y/N,” she whispers, rocking her hips slightly to push more of herself through your hand. Your hand feels infinitely better than hers ever has and just the thought of what your pussy might feel like has her head reeling already. 

“Do you like that?” you ask, ghosting your lips over hers. Natasha tries to kiss you but pulls back and gasps when you squeeze her head, collecting the pre-cum that dribbles out on your finger. She watches with wide eyes as you bring your finger to your mouth and suck it off, and she throbs even harder in your hand.

“Please, Y/N,” she begs, and even her legs are shaking now too (but she suspects that might also be because her muscles are weak).  

“Sit down and take your clothes off,” you tell her, taking off your jacket and tossing it on the floor. Natasha eyes your curves with a spark of lust, but she doesn’t touch you without permission. She hastily tries to follow your instruction, wanting to watch you undress instead, but with a few fumblings rids herself of the leather jacket and the plain white T-shirt she had been wearing underneath. You’ve left yourself in a pair of lacey lingerie as you crawl onto the bed to join her, pushing her back until her spine bumps against the headboard.

“Still okay?” you ask, straddling her waist but mindful of the enormous dark bruise on her right thigh.

“Can I touch you?” Natasha asks, almost squirming underneath you in desperation.

“Of course,” you say, guiding her hands to your hips where she squeezes them roughly, sliding to the backside of your thighs and pulling you towards her. Her hard cock is pressed against her abs when you fall against her and she jogs her hips to create a slight friction between your bodies. You rock forward, smearing some of her pre-cum onto your stomach. Natasha gasps at the sight and feels herself harden even more, until she’s afraid it’s about to burst on the spot.

“I don’t…know how much longer…I’ll last,” she pants, trying to slow the movement of your hips. You’ve hardly touched her and she isn’t even inside you yet, but the shameful thought deflates her just a little bit.

“Just a little more,” you tease, wrapping your hand around her slick cock and pumping it back to full mast again. Natasha grunts and moans, her muscles flexing in an impressive display for you as she tries to enjoy the pleasure without ruining the moment. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, but you slap her hand away and she looks up at you guiltily.

“Let me,” you insist, leaning back to slowly shimmy out of your panties. Natasha is worried she’ll start drooling when you finally expose yourself to her, where she can see the glimmering wetness of your anticipation. “Look what you’ve done to me,” you say as you lower yourself to press your wetness against her cock. “Feel it.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Natasha mumbles, wondering if you can feel how hard her cock is throbbing for you too. She cants her hips up to slide herself through your heat, even though the movement reminds her of the pain in her leg. “I need you, baby.”

“I need you too,” you say, moving to match her rhythm. It fills Natasha with happiness to hear you say this; she’s never had it said to her before and quite literally spent most of her time as a punching bag for others. But even if you’re just caught in the heat of the moment and only viewing her as a favor, she wants to enjoy this and couldn’t be more excited you chose to spend time with her tonight.

“Did you bring protection?” you ask, startling Natasha out of the moment.

“Oh…um, yes. It’s in my wallet,” she says, reminded of the little foil packet one of her sparring buddies had given her as a joke. They wouldn’t be laughing anymore when they learned she had finally gotten the chance to use it.

There is an awkward pause as you lift off of Natasha enough for her to slide out and grab the wallet in her jeans, tearing open the packet as she gets on the bed again. Her hands are trembling as she tries rolling the plastic over herself, but you end up helping her finish. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, embarrassed by her own helplessness.

“It’s okay.” You kiss her forehead and hold onto her shoulder with one hand to steady yourself, the other hand gripping onto her shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she says, holding her breath and squeezing your hips tighter. 

She easily slides into you, trapping her in a velvet heat that seems to swallow her whole. The two of you moan in unison and Natasha holds herself very still, torn between wanting to bury her entire length in you and not wanting to hurt you. Her heart is racing with exhilaration but she patiently waits for you to start moving, the arousal in her stomach spiking to an almost painful point when she feels how easily she moves through you.    

Her back arches against the headboard when you purposely squeeze her and her nails claw at your thighs. 

“Come on, Nat,” you say, “Come and fuck me.”

Natasha doesn’t respond with words, but jack her hips up hard, meeting your thighs with hers with an audible slap. Her arousal is so strong now it completely drowns out the lightning bolts of pain from her leg as she pistons eagerly into you, trying to fit all of herself into you. She wants your tightness around every inch of her, massaging her in the best way she’s ever been touched before. She can feel herself leaking in the condom and knows it won’t be too much longer until she busts completely. 

But she wants you to feel good too, and doesn’t want to focus too much on her own pleasure. 

You bounce higher with every one of Natasha’s thrusts and she starts to lose her rhythm the closer she gets to release. Her hips and abs burn and she buries her face in your chest, mouthing at your breasts in a last-ditch effort to distract herself, but to no avail. 

Natasha finishes in a few hard spurts that seem to drain all the energy out of her. She lays back limply against the headboard, the muscles in her thighs still twitching. Your riding slows to a full halt as you wait for her body to stop shaking. Natasha reaches up to stroke your face tenderly.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and you beam down at her.

***********************************************************************

Natasha opens her eyes, feeling like she had been hit by a bus. She looks around and doesn’t recognize the space, before she suddenly remembers her successful fight against Danvers, and then the night she had with you. 

But you’re nowhere to be seen now, although Natasha’s clothes, which she had haphazardly tossed to the floor, are now collected in a neat stack on a chair. She gets up to put her clothes on and her phone falls out of her jeans pocket. The screen lights up with text messages from her father, wondering why she was late to practice that morning.

The harshness of reality slapping her in the face, she hurries to dress. She isn’t even sure if she’s supposed to be here, but she finds a back door and sneaks out, unsure if she’ll ever have the confidence to return.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Sorry this ended kind of sad, I’ve been really sad lately so it only made sense lol.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[thehistoriccemetery]

Companions React to Reader Sitting on Their Lap

It’s another pretty short one this week, as I’ve had terrible Minthara brainrot and I’ve been able to write nothing but filthy smut 😔

Anyway, this one is some family friendly head canons about the ladies with a bonus Dame Aylin and Isobel!

Shadowheart

Shadowheart doesn’t say anything at first, but you do notice her skin get slightly redder, and you watch a tiny smirk grow across her face.

She’s not typically one for public displays of affection, but something about lap sitting is different.

It’s like affection with plausible deniability. What else was I supposed to do? Sit on the floor?

After you’ve done it once, Shadowheart considers the barrier broken and takes every opportunity to sit on your lap.

Sometimes you think she must have a sixth sense that tells her when you sit down, because she simply appears on your lap.

If you cross your legs or do anything else to prevent her sitting in your lap, she gives you a little cough to let you know you should remedy that as soon as possible.

Depending on who’s around, she’ll sometimes lean back against you, pressing her whole body to yours.

She likes it when you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on her shoulder.

While she prefers to be the one sitting on your lap, she’s still more than happy to let you sit on hers.

Lae’zel

The first time you try sitting on her lap, she pushes you off. Why are you sitting on top of her? Weirdo. You roll your eyes and sit on the ground.

But then she decides that it’s weirder you’re sitting on the ground so she gives you her seat.

But then she doesn’t want to stand anymore. Tsk’va. Whatever. Guess she’s gonna have to sit on you.

Lae’zel only ever sits on your lap, never the other way around. She oddly never picks up on any of the possible implications of that.

If anyone calls Lae’zel a bottom she’s gonna throw hands.

She doesn’t lay up against you or anything. To her this move is strictly practical, or at least she acts like it is.

You let her have it. As far as you’re concerned, you have a lovely girlfriend on your lap so you’re not going to complain.

Karlach

The first time you nonchalantly sit down in Karlach’s lap, she’s so chill and unfazed.

At least, that’s the vibe she’s trying to give off. She can be cool about this. So cool.

It’s less than a minute before her body starts to betray her. Her legs bounce up and down excitedly under you. As soon as you turn to face her, her stoic expression cracks into one of pure delight.

After that, Karlach pulls so many tricks to ask you to sit in her lap without actually having to ask.

Oh no! There’s no more chairs! Wherever will you sit? Looks like it’ll just have to be in her lap again. Ignore those broken chairs hidden in the corner, this isn’t about them.

You catch on pretty fast. Only so many chairs can disappear before things start to get suspicious.

You sit yourself on Karlach’s lap, watching the goofy smile grow across her face. “You know you can just ask, right?”

Her skin flushes and she buries her face in your neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, she’ll never sit on your lap because she’s too afraid to crush you. Even if you’re bigger than her. You’re too precious to risk it.

Minthara

Minthara is always taking up as much space as she desires in any given situation, so it’s not uncommon that she takes up the space of more than one person.

Luckily she’s always got a place for you to sit, whether that be in between her legs or on them.

She’s never bashful about pulling you into her lap, even when there people are around.

If anything, an audience actually encourages her. You are hers, and that is most clear to everyone when you’re perched on her thigh.

Other times she will be slightly more subtle, tapping her inner thigh in a silent invitation, queuing you to join her.

There are very few scenarios in which Minthara will sit on your lap though. At least, in public.

If you try to get her to sit, she’ll shoot you an “I know that you know this isn’t how this works” look, leaving you to let her take your seat and take your position on her lap.

Jaheira

It really depends on the day with Jaheira.

Most days she going to tell you to get an extra chair. There is no need for you to be sitting in her lap right now.

Sometimes, even if there is no extra chair she would have you sit at her feet in front of her before she let you into her lap.

But on those particularly long and hard days, when you come back looking exhausted and beat, she will allow for some extra tenderness.

She’ll gently guide your head to rest on her shoulder or against her chest and stroke your hair.

If you’re in a more comfortable space she will even slide her hand up under your shirt to rub your back.

More often than not, you fall asleep almost instantly, even if everyone around you is still making a ruckus.

She’s still not going to carry you to bed though. You can walk yourself there.

Dame Aylin x Isobel

Isobel is a princess and Dame Aylin is her throne. It’s more common than not the Isobel is on Aylin’s lap.

For Aylin, it’s like displaying a beautiful trophy. She needs everyone to look at her beautiful girlfriend right now.

The notion makes Isobel blush, but she’s just as proud to have Aylin as Aylin is to have her, so she’ll allow it.

Aylin doesn’t sit on Isobel’s lap, nor would she ever allow her to give up her seat, but Aylin will sit at her feet and gaze up at her with awe and wonder while Isobel smiles down at her and runs her hands through the aasimar’s hair.

And Selune forbid there’s no place for Isobel to sit. Aylin would sooner get down on one knee and let Isobel sit on her leg than leave a tired Isobel to stand.

Aylin’s shoulders are also an acceptable option. She can hoist Isobel up there with ease. She’ll never have to walk for any longer than she wishes.

Granted, it makes them like 10 feet tall, so there’s only a few places it’s applicable before Isobel has to be on alert for low hanging obstacles.

[bluesidez]

Hello!!! Love that you’re taking requests now 🫶🏽 would you write a domestic!miguel fic? Like showing the chaotic but fluffy dysfunction of the O’Hara household. Miguel and the reader already have two kids, maybe reader is pregnant with the third (if you’re comfortable with writing that)

I just really need some fluff in my life lol 😅

[Five Peas In A Pod]

lab taster: @scorpihoooe 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant!Reader

summary: No family's life is exactly perfect, but it doesn't make them any less beautiful.

content warning: lots and lots of fluff, mentions of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy cravings, mentions of food, could possibly be suggestive? but not enough to warrant a huge warning, a lot of crying but I promise it's not sad

word count: 4.3k, not proofread

a/n: I apologize for this being so late! But I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it as well!

“Finally.”

Miguel slid under the covers, grunting as he inched towards your back. His breath was warm on your head as he positioned one arm under one of your pillows and another around your waist.

“How are we feeling?” he kissed your scalp and rubbed down your stomach.

“Not too great, she’s been kicking for the past forty minutes.”

“That’s no good,” Miguel shifted to place his mouth on your shoulder. “What’s wrong, mija? Did you miss me?”

Your baby girl brought her feet to where Miguel held his hand, tapping away like there was there was no tomorrow. Miguel chuckled and wrote a pattern into your skin with his thumb.

“I’m glad you two are having a lovely reunion, but I’d like to go to sleep.”

Miguel kissed up your shoulder and neck as you sighed.

“Hear that Gabi? Can you calm down until tomorrow? Mama needs to sleep so you can keep growing. We can talk in the morning.”

Like magic, Gabriella’s little feet slowed to a halt.

“She hasn’t even seen you yet and she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you weave your fingers through his over your stomach. “What’s next? She’ll look like you too?”

“Mm,” Miguel placed his lips behind your ear. “I hope she looks like you. She’ll be the most beautiful in the world.”

You smiled, “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Miguel took his hands down your body and massaged your hip and lower back. You groaned and melted into your pillow, arching your body into Miguel’s hold. With his ministrations and your daughter giving you a break, you start to fade into dreamland.

You could almost visualize your next craving you were going to make tomorrow. A big bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of pickles, bacon, and caramel drizzle. Maybe some sprinkles too.

The door of the bedroom creaked, Miguel looking over his shoulder.

“Daddy? Mommy? I threw up.”

Miguel’s hands paused and he heaved a heavy sigh.

There was a dip in the bed and a shuffle of slides across the floor.

“Is your stomach still feeling funny, bub?”

You turned your body to watch Miguel bend down and check your second oldest for soiled clothes. Daniel shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest, eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”

You got up on the edge of the bed and walked around to the other side. You sat on your knees next to Miguel and pressed the back of your hand to Daniel’s forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he was trembling.

“We know you didn’t mean to, honey. Sometimes, we just get sick. It’s ok!”

“Yeah, buddy. Papá gets sick all of the time.”

“Really?” Daniel looked to Miguel with big doe eyes, a baby picture of Miguel brought to life.

“Absolutely.”

“And Mama has to nurse him back to health-”

“Ok! Here,” Miguel tugged at the sleeves of his shirt while you laugh. “Let’s clean you up and get you some medicine. It was probably really scary, huh?”

Daniel nodded his head as Miguel helped him take off his pajama pants.

“C’mon. Let’s take a quick bubble bath. How does that sound? No need to be sad,” you gave Daniel a hug and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll get the sheets and clothes in the washing machine and join you.” Miguel said as he helped you up. So much for cuddles before bed.

Miguel was quick to scope Daniel’s room. Any smell of tonight’s stir fry mixed with the chocolate milk from lunch and your waves of morning sickness might come back. He was quick to transfer the sheets to the washing machine and spray the room down with disinfectant. Luckily, the damage wasn’t drastic, so a quick change of sheets and a mop to the floor was all that was needed.

By the time he got to the bathroom, Daniel was wrapped up in a green dinosaur hoodie towel with a smile on his face as you blew raspberries into his cheek.

Miguel gasped, “Are you two having a party without me?”

Daniel folded his hands under his chin and nodded meekly, face rosy.

“Nonsense!” Miguel swept him up in his arms. “There’s no party without Papá, no?”

The hall filled with giggles as Miguel airplaned Daniel back to his room. The chatter amongst them filled the noise as Miguel reassured Daniel that he and mommy would only be a room away if was feeling sick again.

He ran lotion over his body and placed him in paw print pajamas. He wrapped him tight in the covers and shifted the star night light on the nightstand. With a whisper of goodnight, Miguel inched his way to the door.

However, the crumbling face of the five year old as Miguel looked through the crack tugged at his heart. He opened the door, swept Daniel up, and trudged back to his own bedroom.

Walking into the room, you were laying down with the opposite side of the duvet flipped up and an extra pillow in between yours and his.

Your face was knowing, a shake in your shoulders as you watched Miguel rock a clingy baby in his arms to the bed.

“Joining mommy and daddy, Daniel?”

“Uh huh,” he crawls to the middle and pulls the covers up. You lay a hand on his tummy over the duvet as Miguel slips in with a deep sigh.

He turns and places his hand over yours, the two of you acting as a shield. “I love you’s” and “good nights” are exchanged and a kiss between the two of you is shared before Daniel whines about wanting a kiss too. Both of you laugh and kiss him on his cheeks as he settled into his pillow.

You rub his chest lightly, something that put him to sleep easily as a baby.

His eyes start to close, almost gone to the world, before he jerks back up, startling Miguel whose eyes were just as heavy.

“Papá, can you sing the night-night song?” Daniel pleads.

A soft breath escapes your nose as you watch Miguel blink his eyes open and comply.

“But you have to go to sleep after this, bub.”

Daniel promises to do so as Miguel starts up a lullaby about a baby that wants to sleep but can’t.

It works on you too, the low drum of his voice holding you in his arms as you held your baby in yours.

Gabriella moved, and as softly as you can, you take his hand to your stomach. With this, she taps softly to his palm.

Miguel smiles sleepily as he watches you take a little breath, the rise and fall of your chest showing that you were in a deep sleep.

He only stops singing when he’s sure all three of you are asleep.

“Jaime, I’ve asked you five times to get up already. Get it together.”

There was only one more hour left before everyone needed to be out of the house or else you’d be late to your appointment.

The lump in the bed only moves a bit before it’s still again.

“Jaime, please. I don’t want to have to pull you out of the bed.”

Today was already starting out all over the place. You woke up sweaty and achy, the heat radiating from your furnace of a husband and your snuggly son was too much. Your ankles felt a little more swollen than usual, and you wanted chewy spicy rice cakes with extra cheese, but the heartburn wouldn’t be worth it.

You sighed as your eldest stayed put. A soft pat to the bed only earned a whine and a wiggle from him.

Looking towards the growing footsteps at the door, your husband was frantic and glaring at his watch as if it cursed him.

“What’s the holdup? We need to be in the car soon and Daniel has to be at school early for a field trip.”

You held your hand out to the bed, face defeated.

“Son.”

Jaime shot up with a wobble to his lips and a scrunch to his face at the tone of Miguel’s voice.

You folded your arms, half concerned, half offended.

“I know you hear your mother asking you to get up.”

“But-“

“Jaime O’Hara.”

The tears start to fall as he shuffles out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his cries pitiful and broken.

He swings the door like he’s about to slam it only to close it softly at the end, the sound of his voice carrying through then hallway.

“Was I too hard on him?” Miguel’s shoulders drop.

“No? I don’t think so. But I think there’s something he’s not telling us.”

“Is there something going on at school? Did we miss an important date?”

The two of you stare at each other as Jaime continues to sob in the bathroom.

“There’s no award ceremonies. He hasn’t said anything strange about his classmates. His birthday isn’t until the end of the year. He does have his game coming up.”

Miguel gasps and runs his had through his hair, “He’s been worrying about his 3-pointers nonstop. He’s probably nervous about it.”

He puts his face in his hand and mumbles through his fingers.

“How could I forget?”

You pat his shoulder, “Don’t worry about that right now. What’s important is that we talk to him. Check up on him, calm him down, explain things to him, and encourage him. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Miguel kisses your temple. “You’re so good at this.”

A snicker follows his statement, “And so are you. Now, can you go stop his crying while I make sure Daniel hasn’t made a mess in the kitchen? He’s too quiet.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up again as he realized he left the kindergartner to his own devices. The last time he did that, he walked onto a floor covered in flour and dusty, giggly baby.

“Smart idea.”

“Mm hm.”

Miguel turns and heads towards the bathroom, giving it two knocks before asking to come in.

Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes out a yes.

Miguel opens the door to him crying in the mirror while he puts up his toothbrush. If it were anyone else’s child or baby brother, it could have been funny and dramatic, but Miguel sees himself in the way his entire chest jumps when he breathes in.

He hopes Jaime always feels that home is a safe place to cry and yell, something his own parents never offered him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He left his frustration with the frantic morning at the doorway and stepped inside. With one hand on the counter and another arm resting on his thigh, he squatted down to Jaime’s level.

His son rubbed his eyes from the inside of his elbow to his arm, “I kept messing up.”

“Messing up what? Your shots?”

Jaime nodded his head, curly hair bouncing along with it.

“At practice, Coach made us do Around-the-worlds and the further from the goal, the more I kept missing. But the game is soon, and I can’t mess up at the game.”

His voice reached its highest point and he bit his lip in order not to cry again.

“Oye, está bien. That’s just practice, mijo. The game isn’t until a few more days. There’s plenty of time for us to get to a court and do some more drills. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can always work to be better. Understood?”

Jaime nodded his head.

“Can you look at me?”

Jaime pouted as he turned to Miguel.

“I apologize for not giving you the space to explain yourself this morning. I was rushing and I didn’t take the time to check on you. For that, Papá’s sorry. Lo siento, mijo.”

With a calmer demeanor, Jaime forgives him. No whines and no hesitation.

“Still, when you’re feeling like this, you need to communicate, ok? Mamá was there and you could have told her that you were worried. You could have even called for me and I would have come running.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt Mamá.”

Miguel bit the inside of his lip in order to not coo, “I know you didn’t. Would you like to apologize to her like I did to you?”

Jaime collided with Miguel’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel the movement of his head nodding.

“Ok, buddy. Let’s go find her after we get your uniform on.”

Jaime wasn’t budging from his spot so Miguel let him cling off his neck as he got up. One day his eldest might not want to do things like this again, so for now he’ll cherish it.

One blazer, some knaki shorts, and a button down later, Jaime was all ready for school.

“And what do we say when we’re feeling down about ourselves?” Miguel asked as he tucked in the end of Jaime’s belt.

“Nothing can stop me from the path I want to take, not even my doubts.”

“And?”

“O’Hara’s may make mistakes, but O’Hara’s bounce back. O’Hara’s succeed.”

“¡Exactamente!” Miguel patted his back.

“¿Papá?”

“¿Sí, mijo?”

Jaime held his hands up, silently pleading with Miguel.

With an easy tug, his son was in his arms. As tall as he was getting, he was still Miguel’s baby.

In the kitchen, you were leaning over the island as you listened intensely to Daniel talk about types of dinosaurs. You looked up to your son in your husband’s arms and you knew they had a good talk.

Miguel strode up to you and looked at Jaime expectantly.

“I,” he picked at his uniform tie. “I’m sorry for not listening to you this morning Mamá. I was sad but that- that doesn’t mean I was supposed to ignore you.”

Your eyes started to water, “I forgive you, Jaime. I’m glad you were able to figure out what was wrong. Can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, please.”

With that, you kiss his cheek and place a hand on his head.

“Papá, pick me up too!” Daniel huffs out.

Miguel complies, holding him in his other arm like nothing. You giggle at the three of them, all very similar in some way. Their skin, their hair, their smiles. Your precious, precious boys.

A sharp kick to your stomach causes you to suck in through your teeth.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks with a pinch in his brow.

“No, I just think a certain someone wants your attention, too.”

You gently press your stomach to your husband’s, hoping that he could feel Gabriella’s tap dance performance.

“She’s going crazy in there,” you mumble.

Miguel can kind of feel her little feet through his shirt, but really, he was staring at you.

Even as you frowned at your stomach, you were still so beautiful. Your skin was glowing, you were giving him more smiles than ever, and the pregnancy was treating your body right in his eyes.

“Mírame.”

You peer up at him and it’s like a halo appears above your head. He’s quick to slot his lips against yours and hold it, the feeling of warmth settling into his bones.

“Eugh,” Jaime scrunches his face up in disgust.

You pull back and shake your head with a heated face, brought back to reality. Daniel is giggling behind his hands.

Miguel turned to Jaime and bombarded his face with kisses to, leading the 9-year-old to scream bloody murder. You joined Miguel on his attack, not stopping until Jaime waved his white flag.

The two of you looked at each other and then at Daniel simultaneously who squeaked when he saw you grin. Laughter filled the kitchen as the three of you gave Daniel some love.

Mornings were for chaos, but they also brought you together.

By the time Miguel was walking to the car with his kids, it was far past his estimated time.

He turned and looked at you still standing by the kitchen counter.

“Baby, c’mon.”

“But,” you pause, smile growing on your face. “The baby wants to be carried, too.”

You think he’s about to brush the comment off with a sigh but he gives a “One sec” and disappears into the garage with the kids.

You go to gather your purse and your water, checking that all of the lights and appliances are turned off.

“Ok,” Miguel rushes back in and claps his hands, “vamos.”

Three blinks at his wrestler stance and it clicks. You walk to him and your feet leave the ground.

“You’re so silly,”

“Just in love, mi amor.”

The gel was still as cold as ever, you could never really get used to it.

Looking to Miguel, you could see that he could never get used to sitting next to you in these rooms either. His grip on your hand was tight and solid.

The obstetrician slid the transducer on your lower stomach, her eyes sliding over the screen.

Gabriella’s little heartbeat bounced through the room, fast and strong.

Miguel’s grip on your hand loosened as he smiled at the screen.

“Baby girl is looking good,” the doctor says. “Everything is in place and she’s growing perfectly. You both should be proud.”

She paused and looked at you both, specifically at Miguel, “I would be worried about how she big she’s getting at this stage, but I can see why. How tall are you?”

“Uh, 6’9.”

A whistle passes her lips, “Godspeed, Mama. You’ll need it for the next several months.”

“Two boys and my only girl is going to give me a run for my money,” you mumble.

Jaime and Daniel were so tiny when they came out, both of them barely showing at five months. Gabriella is close to being almost twice their size at this rate, and the soreness all over your body was showing it.

At least your husband made time to make you feel good in more ways than one.

“Is there anything that she should look out for? Other than the obvious?” Miguel asks, always the worrier.

“No, I think you guys are good to go. I’ll get you some pictures of the baby and get you checked out. Just keep taking your vitamins, get plenty of water, get those feet up, and stretch as much as you can while you still feel like it. The least stress you have, the better.”

Your stomach is wiped clean and in no time, you’re back in the car trying to decide what to get for lunch.

“I feel like I should have asked more questions,” Miguel’s fingers tapped on the wheel.

“I’m sure you’ll have more that you can call her for later, baby. Right now, I want a milkshake.”

“You need some nourishing food, too.”

“Is that what you want Gabriella?” you ask your stomach. No taps, no spins, no twirls. “What about a milkshake? Chocolate oreo? Extra whip cream?” Gabriella thumps three times.

“My girl is already so smart,” you say to Miguel who scowls.

“Already so spoiled.”

“You love it, though.”

“Mm.”

Miguel swore he would never be like those fathers that only connected to their children through their own expectations of them, and to be fair, he was the complete opposite.

Though seeing him stand at the bottom of the bleachers with a baseball cap, folded arms, and a stern face gave the impression that he was that type of dad.

“¡Ay, eso es faulta!”

“Babe. Maybe let’s let the coach and the referee do their jobs.”

“They don’t know what they’re doing. That was clearly a foul and my son should be holding the ball right now.”

You sighed and continued to chew on your nachos with Daniel who was just happy to be out of the house later than usual. Miguel was about to burn a hole in the gymnasium floor with how stiff he was standing.

Behind him was a family that couldn’t see, leaning around him.

“Miguel, honey, please sit down so everyone can see.”

He sits and folds his hands under his chin. His muscles bulge through his jacket as his legs bounce.

You place a hand on his leg and put a water bottle to his lips. He takes a few sips and focuses back on the game.

“Let’s go, Jaime! Make it count!”

He’s back on his feet again as Jaime gets ready to shoot some free-throws.

Jaime looks at Miguel, a hint of fear in his eyes. Miguel brings his hands up and pushes them down, motioning a deep breath.

“You got this, mijo. Just like we practiced.”

Your son dribbles once, twice, and takes the shot.

The basketball flies through the air and brushes the rim of the basket. It spins and the gym goes quiet. You don’t realize your holding your breath until it comes back when the people behind you stomp on the bleachers.

Jaime looks to Miguel with the brightest face he could muster. Miguel almost springs through the ceiling with how high he jumps.

“That’s my son,” he claps his hands like thunder, chest puffing up. “That’s my son!”

The game continues with Miguel milliseconds from fighting with the official, Jaime looking to Miguel for encouragement, and you smacking the back of his thighs whenever he was standing too much.

When Jaime made the final basket, you were scared Miguel might do a backflip.

Jaime ran to him and jumped in his arms, Miguel spinning him around and laughing with glee.

“I did it, daddy! I did it!”

“¡Eres increíble, mijo! I’m so proud of you.”

“Did you see me, mommy?”

“I did! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you!”

Daniel jumps up and down, “You made the ball go whoosh! And, and, and when it went in everybody screamed!”

Jaime and his brother played together as the gym started to empty out.

“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” you ask Miguel as you watch Jaime help Daniel dribble.

“I think that’s an excellent idea.”

“And what do you say to carton of cotton candy ice cream after the kids go to bed? Maybe even a soak in the bath?”

Miguel looked to you as you blinked your eyes at him. You slid your hands down his arm and tilted your head.

“You want vanilla wafers too?”

You nod.

“And strawberry syrup?”

“You’re such a good husband.”

You pull him down to kiss him, heart soaring.

“Mamá! Look what I can do!”

“No, Daniel! Don’t jump off that!”

“If I hear that raccoon sing that song one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Miguel bit into a slice of pizza.

You reached across the table to wipe some ranch off of his lips and lick it away.

“I like the song! He’s a little off-key, though.”

Miguel had a grimace on his face, the energy from the building overwhelming. Or perhaps it was Daniel clinging tight to his side whenever the mascot came close to their table.

A couple of kids ran by, running towards the line for laser tag.

You listened to them go over strategies, all very serious coming from them.

“God, I can’t believe he’ll be 10 soon. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You poke the straw of your cup in and out, pout on your face. It felt like just yesterday you and Miguel were setting up his nursery.

“I remember him grabbing my finger at the hospital. So strong for someone who couldn’t eat solids yet.”

“Now he’s running around and blooming into this perfect little boy,” you sigh, watching him catapult into a ballpit. You should definitely make him take some vitamins later, just to be sure.

“And this little boy is the sweetest,” Miguel kissed the top of Daniel’s head, who seemed to be pre-occupied with a coloring book you packed.

“And once our little girl is in our arms, it’ll be so special,” you say. “She’s already making an impact.”

“I’m already crazy about her,” Miguel grins.

“And I’m ready for her to come out,” you snicker. “I have a feeling that whatever she’ll do will involve these rapid fire feet.”

“I need to get some new running shoes then,” Miguel replies in all seriousness. Daniel interrupted him with a drawing of a T-rex.

“When she gets here,” Miguel comments in between his praise for Daniel’s skill, “how do you want to celebrate afterwards?”

“I don’t need anything. Just maybe a plate of food I couldn’t eat and a comfy bed.”

“Mamà, c’mon,” Miguel held your hand across the table. “That can be arranged easily. I mean something especially for you for doing something so amazing. It can be anything. I’ll make it happen.”

Your heart sped up, a bit giddy.

“Well the last time we took a trip to an island and,” you panned to Daniel, “we both know how that ended. Maybe the mountains?”

“We can do the mountains. Or just you and your friends if you want.”

Miguel thought about you all bundled up and cozy, enjoying s'mores and wine in a sweater and a blanket. Peak cuddling form.

“That would be very nice. Thank you, Miggy.”

“Of course. Now what do you say to a friendly game of arcade racing?”

“There’s nothing friendly about leaving you in the dust.”

Miguel scoffed and slid Daniel into his arms.

“It’s on.”

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! This was very sweet to write!!

[b3ach-bunn7]

THINGS TO DO

You have chores you need to get done. Touya and your daughter won’t leave you alone. 

noquirk!au, domestic, fluff

inspired by @moodyvoid :P

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“How are you doing that?”

You look up at Touya from where you’re cross-legged on the floor. He’s only wearing black boxers and his robe, your daughter’s pudgy legs around his neck as she fiddles with his hair. Mizuki’s not reached the age that she can talk yet, but Touya assures you the gurgles she makes is actually conversation. You’ve walked in on him enough times, bent over her crib conversing with her, that you have no choice but to believe it. She grabs a handful of his hair and tugs. He winces, hand reaching up to untangle it from her grasp.

“Doing what?”

You’re currently sitting in front of the dryer while Touya leans on the washing machine. You’ve put off the laundry far too long, and the pile of clothes in front of you is a testament to that. The washing machine shakes beneath Touya and you curse the second load you’ll have to deal with later. 

“The folding thing. Takes me ten minutes to do that shit and it never comes out looking like that.” 

“Practise. And patience you don’t have.” 

Touya scoffs. “I so have patience.” 

You laugh at that. “You so don’t! Don’t you remember when you tried to make cookies last week? You ended up eating them raw because you couldn't wait for them to chill in the fridge.”

Touya rolls his eyes and kicks the shirt in your hand away with his foot. You tut, smacking it out your way.

“That’s different. I was hungry.”

“Fatty.”

“Hey! Not in front of Zuki.” He leans his head forward so he can reach up to grab her. He plops down on the floor in front of you and places her in his lap.

“Okay. Time to learn how to do laundry.”

You snort a laugh. “She can’t even talk, babe. How’s she gonna fold laundry?”

“No time like the present.” 

She giggles as Touya places the pile of socks you’d been leaving until last in her lap. Her hands grab random pairs and Touya nods.

“That’s my girl. Look, this one and this one. Roll it like this.” He demonstrates with one hand, the other holding onto her waist so she doesn’t fall.

“Wow. She’s really getting it.” You drawl. Touya throws a sock at your head.

“None of that talk. Only encouragement. Just think about it, if we train her from now she’ll grow up to be a machine.” 

You sigh heavily, moving another stack of folded shirts away to make some more room. “You really want our daughter to be a machine when she’s older?”

Touya ponders it for a moment. You watch as Zuki sticks her fist in her mouth. “Maybe not. I’m not seeing much potential.” 

You lean forward, moving her fist away from her face. 

“Open, baby.” You say, quickly checking around her gums. “You think she’ll start teething soon? She’s that age, no?” 

Touya hums. “I don’t know. She has been biting stuff more often though.” He drops his hand into her lap and she grabs his finger, sticking it into her mouth.

Your finger is covered in spit and you wince. “Ew.” You wipe your finger on Touya's leg. “Baby drool.” 

“Ugh, don’t rub it on me.” 

“Your finger’s literally inside her mouth.” 

“That’s different.” 

Touya watches you fold the next pile of clothes, and then the next. It finishes quicker with him there, telling you about work, you telling him about Mitzuki. He gives you his hand so you can get up and you groan, placing them into the laundry baskets so you can put it all away. You feel yourself ageing despite the fact you’re both young, and you huff, annoyedz

“I hate being an adult. Let’s hire a maid.” You grumble. You stretch, wincing at the crack your back makes.

“No.”

“Yeah, well I’m the one that has to do all the chores all not you, so I should decide.”

Touya gapes. “Fuck off with that. I offered to help you, you said no!”

You turn your back on him and walk out the laundry rooms basket on your hip. “Shut up.”

It’s true, in all honesty. You feel too bad to make Touya do any chores. You still have a couple weeks left of maternity leave, and while you’d been at home caring for the baby,  he’d been picking up extra shifts. You see the exhaustion that grips at his bones, the bags under his eyes. He insists on helping around the house whenever he’s home, but you refuse to let him do it. You’d rather he spent time with his daughter, relaxed a little. Touya, however, takes the ‘no help’ rule to mean ‘follow me around the house like a lost puppy’ instead. He does so now, Mizuki back around his shoulders. He hums a song you don’t recognise under his breath, fingers tapping against her legs. They follow you to each of your bedrooms, watching as you fill drawers with socks and shirts and incredibly small onesies. You kick one of Mizuki’s toys out your way. 

“You think she’ll start talking properly soon?” You ask suddenly, looking at Mizuki as she babbles.

Touya shrugs. “Beats me. When are kids even meant to start talking?”

“I don’t know.” You bite your lip anxiously, discarding the now empty laundry basket to the corner of the room. You walk over to Touya and grab Mizuki, holding her at arms length.

“You don’t think shes behind, do you? Like- Should she be talking? Or walking? She can’t even stand up without our help, and-”

“Baby.” 

Touya grabs Mizuki.

“Chill. It’ll be fine. Shoto didn’t start talking until he was like, four.” He says, scruffing up your hair with one hand. You huff, reaching up and holding his hand in ur own. You rest your face on it, eyes shutting as his finger soothes against your cheek.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Don’t worry, baby. You’re the best mum around.”

You roll your eyes. You tap Mitzuki on the nose.

“I don’t think she agrees. She’s so obsessed with you.” You grumble.

Touya grins lifting her up so he can kiss her on the forehead. “Daddy’s girl.” 

You sigh dramatically. “I used to be Daddy’s girl.” 

“Ew, that’s fucking weird.” Touya frowns as you giggle, reaching up to kiss him quickly. 

The three of you move to the kitchen, and you stand in the middle, hands on your hips. Touya places Mitzuki in the middle of the counter and mimics your stance. “Okay. I’m gonna make dinner. What are we feeling?”

His arms drop. “Uh. Food?”

“Ha ha. So funny.”

Touya sticks his tongue out at you. “Zuki thinks I’m funny. Right, sweetheart?” He tickles under her chin and she giggle. He looks back up at you, eyes shining. “See.” 

God, he’s so cute when he’s with her. Touya had been quite monotone when you met him. Never emotionless, but he never really seemed to care about much. You started dating and he opened up much more to you, and by the time you two were married, he was an open book. You knew everything there was to know about him. But this, the way he seems to light up whenever he’s with Mitzuki. It wasn’t like anything you’d seen before, a part of him you knew existed. You’re sure that Touya was always meant to be a dad, had to be with his good he was with her. 

And you knew he was scared. He’d whispered to you in the nights you were trying, warned you what his father was like. That he was scared that he would be like that. And you whispered back that you knew he never would, that Touya would be the best father to whoever the two of you ended up with. That night had ended very well.

You smile softly. “At least somebody does.”

You shuffle over to the fridge, eyes scanning over the leftovers and ingredients begging to be used. You huff. “God, I’m going to have to cook, aren’t I?”

“You don’t have to. We can get takeaway.” Touya grins.

“No. We have to be responsible adults.” You speak over Touya’s incessant booing.

“Come on. I want pizza.” 

“I want to use up all the food in our fridge.” 

“You’re so boring.”

“One of us has to be. Now go, get out so I can cook.” 

Touyas eyebrows furrow. “Uhm, why? I’ll be lonely.”

You start pulling out pans from the cupboards and vegetables from the fridge. “We’ve literally been together all day.”

“I’m your husband. You have to let me annoy you.”

“Go sit and watch TV, or something. Football. Isn’t that what men do?” 

He groans again, reaching over to grab at your waist, dropping down to his knees. “Why. Why won’t my wife let me love her.” 

You run a hand through his hair. “I do let you love me. You’re roots are coming in, by the way.” You tug his hair a little bit and he makes a sound deep in his chest.

“Mhm, just like that, baby.”

“Touya. You’re such a freak.”

“For you, yeah.” He looks to the side, squinting at his reflection in the mirror.

“Are they really coming in? Will you dye them for me?” 

You nod. “I always do, don’t I?”

“Love you.”

“Love you more. Now get up and out. You’ve abandoned our daughter on the kitchen counter.”

Touya mumbles something under his breath, sighing heavily as he gets up to his feet. “Come on, Zuki. We’re not wanted here.”

You click the kettle on. “You need to rest, you’ve been working so much. No point standing in here with- Touya!”

“What?”

“Don’t hold our child like that!”

Touya’s head tilits. He has the nerve to act casual as if he hasn’t got your daughter under one arm like she’s a fucking football. 

“What?”

“Hold her properly!”

“Why? She loves it.” He turns to the side and she peeks her head round to grin at you, hands grabbing at the air.

You smile despite yourself, shooing them both away. “Get out before you give me a heart attack.” 

You decide on making soba, something quick and easy you know you both like. You utilise the veg in your fridge you’re sure is going bad soon, dumping the expired leftovers in the trash. You come out the kitchen half an hour later. Touya’s feet are propped up on the coffee table, some old Disney movie playing on the TV. Mitzuki is laying across his chest, his hand rubbing up and down her back slowly.

“Is she asleep?” You ask, sitting down on the couch next to him.

He hums quietly. “Nearly. Is it okay if she naps right now?”

You nod. You shuffle down on the couch, until your legs hang off the edge and your head rests on Touya’s shoulder. You wrap you arm around his.

“Yeah. She’ll be more of a hassle if we wake her up, anyway.” Touya huffs a laugh. 

“Why are you watching Tangled?” You mumble.

“It’s a good movie.” 

“Weirdo.”

“Shut up.” 

“I made soba, by the way. We can eat whenever.” 

“Fuck yeah.” Touya kisses the top of your head. “Thanks, baby.”

“I’m so happy your favourite meal is like, the easiest thing to make.” 

“I’m easy to please.”

You reach a hand forward and touch the hairs on Mitzuki’s head. They were the same colour as yours. You think that might be the only thing she took from you, because when she blinks at you lazily, you could recognise those bright blue eyes anywhere, the tilt of her nose. 

“She’s so beautiful.” You murmur.

“Takes after her mother.”

You sigh. “No. You’re a liar. She looks exactly like you.”

You don’t need to see him to know Touya’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. “You think?”

“Shut up. It’s not fair. I lugged her around for nine months, she should take after me a little.”

Touya runs a hand up and down your back. “Don’t worry, baby. The next one will look like you.”

You sit up, eyeing Touya. “Next one?”

Touya kisses the tip of your nose. “I want three minimum. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel like I agree. But let’s chill out, it’s not even been a year yet.” 

“Fine. I guess.”

“You guess. Shut it and turn the TV up.”

“You hear that Mitzuki? Hear how your mother speaks to me?”

“She’s asleep and also she’s a baby.”

Touya shakes his head. “You don’t get us.” 

——————————————————————

domestic Touya I yearn for you like a wife who’s husbands been at war and my only memory is your photo in my purse 😔

me personally the Todoroki family lore is the saddest like it actually makes me wanna cry and sob.. so I will only ever write them happy idgaf

a knee ways I hope u enjoyed :P this is shorter than what I normally write but I just had to write it.. also not me being so consistent